


Countdown

by Cam719, westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Disturbing Imagery or Content, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-07
Updated: 2009-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 78,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cam719/pseuds/Cam719, https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: By annemflynn, camiller and Suzy K. Donna's got a stalker. (I really don't know how to summarize this one more than that.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Thanks to our beta Rick!  


* * *

I have an unusual situation. It’s not an unpleasant one, but it’s definitely one that’s giving me quite a bit of pause.

Something strange happened to me one night a few weeks ago. Of course, given my job and who I work for, strange stuff happens to me all the time. But this isn’t a strangeness that the President created. This is a strangeness that my assistant created.

If I talked to maybe Sam about it, he’d say that is nothing to get worried about because Donna does strange things. She got arrested once for sticking her hand in a mailbox while trying to retrieve a letter she wrote to Ilie Nastase. She left a pair of underwear at an art exhibit. Believe me when I tell you, I could go on here. 

So Donna doing strange things is not unusual. 

What’s strange is my reaction to…

Okay. Let me just tell you what happened.

Donna was dating this Navy Commander for a while. He switched votes with her on Election Day (because she accidentally voted for Richie. See what I mean by I could go on?) and in doing so, cast some sort of spell over her. He was dashing, he was charming, the whole thing made me want to puke…along with my raging jealousy over it. 

So what ends up happening is, not surprisingly, Commander Wonderful ends up not being so wonderful. He shoots his mouth off to a reporter, because he ‘didn’t think he was on the record,’ like we’ve never heard THAT one before, and Donna because she’s Donna ends up taking the fall for him. 

She did that because of me. She knew I’d get pissed at her, but she also knew I wouldn’t fire her. And she probably even knew that Leo wouldn’t fire her because if Leo fired her, Operations would fall apart because I’ve proven myself an idiot when she’s not around. Donna runs Operations. 

So, Donna takes the fall and doesn’t get fired. Commander Wonderful, however, gets shipped off to Italy and the love affair ends. The spell is quickly broken.

But everything is not well. There’s still the matter of me and Donna. She didn’t come to the Inauguration ceremony and she didn’t want to come to the balls despite my telling her that it was okay and she belonged there. See how wonderful I can be? I was pissed as hell, but knew that the night wouldn’t be the same without her, so I tried my best to get her to come anyway, and this was before I knew that she wasn’t the one who gave the quote.

So, once I did find out that it was Jack all along, I gathered a small posse and went to get Donna. 

Of course, I could have just called her to open the door when I discovered the buzzer wasn’t working, but I wanted her to know I was sorry for being such a jerk and I really wanted her to come back to the balls with me. So I did what any guy would do in that situation and threw snowballs at her window and then ordered her to come down.

That is not the strange reaction I’m referring to…believe it or not.

It was the cab ride that followed.

It’s never been, like, completely lost on me that my assistant is a beautiful woman. Guys ask her out all the time. It’s generally understood around the building and the City for that matter, that I’ve got the hot assistant. 

But unlike those Gomers, I know that there’s more to her than her incredible looks and her filing skills. I know that after I have blown off an issue, Donna will discover the human interest angle and inevitably use it to turn me around. I depend on her for that kind of stuff. 

I know that she had five majors and two minors in two years of college because she gets easily excited by a topic and throws herself into it whole-heartedly. It may seem flaky to some, but it’s that particular trait of hers that’s invaluable to me when we’re deciding who to put on a stamp. I could care less who we put on a stamp. What’s wrong with the American Flag stamp? I pass that thing off to Donna, who freaks out over it, and it’s a done deal.

Which is why when she was sitting on my lap in the cab from her apartment, wearing my coat and looking adorable, I was perplexed when my hand which was originally resting on her hip on the outside of the coat, slipped inside the coat, completely on it’s own volition, to rest on her hip. I was even more surprised when my thumb, likewise totally on its own, started grazing back and forth like it’s never felt satin before. 

Between her hair and perfume and the fact that she was wearing an article of clothing of mine, I actually had to refrain from brushing her hair back and kissing her neck. 

Wanting to kiss Donna is not a new feeling for me. Like I said, it’s not lost on me how beautiful she is. Plus, I’m a male with a pulse. But it’s never felt like an overwhelming need before. She trusted me to figure out that quote thing and fix it all. Donna has unconditional trust in me. Even my mother doesn’t have that. My mother will tell you that she knows I can screw things up. Donna believes I can fix anything, and when it comes to her, I have.

But so the odd situation I have right now is that I know for certain now that the feelings I have for my assistant go way beyond professional and leaps and bounds past friendship. And despite the recent ensorcellment with Commander Wonderful, I know she feels relatively the same way. First of all, she clung to me the entire rest of Inauguration Night. Holding my hand, resting her head on my shoulder as we danced, not dancing with anyone else, and she always dances with Charlie. Secondly, her all around bad mood since Amy started working for Abbey is another glaring giveaway. Amy and Donna have never really had a direct problem with each other, but Donna didn’t like the way things ended between Amy and I and so Donna barely tolerates her personally…or professionally for that matter. 

And so now I have Donna telling me that she prayed for me the night I was shot. What do you say to that? Donna’s not overly religious, so when she does pray, she prays for me? I bet she didn’t pray for Commander Wonderful not to be sent to Italy.

I’ve never really bothered to find out whether or not I’m actually allowed to date Donna. I honestly just assumed I couldn’t, but lately I’m wondering if I should actually find out if I can. I mean, given the Vicki Hilton situation a few weeks ago, I don’t THINK I can, but I think if I can get the President on board, I might be able to. 

“Josh.” Leo enters my office with Ron Butterfield and Ron closes the door.

I sigh deeply.

Not again.

Ever since the shooting, I’ve gotten five of these visits. They’re here to tell me about another possibly credible death threat or some hate mail I’ve gotten. If Donna had any idea that these took place, she’d freak. But Leo knows that and so they usually wait until she leaves at night. That way, it’s all fresh in my head when I go to bed at night and it usually spawns a nightmare. 

“Who is it this time?” I ask sarcastically.

“Josh.” Leo says again and with a little more warning to his voice.

“Sorry.” I reply out of habit.

“It’s for Ms. Moss.” Ron says.

I’m sorry. What?

“Donna?” I ask. “That’s impossible.” I immediately write off what they said. No way is there a soul on this planet that wants to hurt my Donna. It’s a mathematical impossibility. 

“No. This one is for Donna.” Ron repeats.

“What’s it say?” I ask tonelessly as my stomach falls to my feet. Donna? They’ve got something wrong here.

“It doesn’t really matter…” Leo begins.

“It matters to me.” I snap back. “And it’s certainly going to matter to her. What’s it say?” 

Ron opens a folder he’s holder and reads it off. “I’m collecting all the guns you’ve banned and there’s a bullet in each one with your name on it.” He closes the file and looks back at me.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” I shake my head. “Donna’s got nothing to do with policy. She’s had nothing to do with any crime legislation. Why would anyone…Donna’s not even visible to anyone.”

“That doesn’t really matter, Josh.” Ron says. “Donna influences you and you influence the President. This is likely someone that knows the administration well.” 

Well, that doesn’t instill a warm fuzzy feeling.

“What makes it credible?” I ask softly.

“What do you mean?” Leo asks. I think he’s stalling. I think it must be bad.

“What else is there that makes it actually credible instead of one of the thousands of pieces of hate mail that comes to this building on a daily basis?” I demand angrily. This can’t be happening. Donna? Who’d want to hurt Donna? She’s the nicest person on the planet.

Ron opens the file again and hands me a pile of pictures. I gulp against the bile in my throat. They are, of course, pictures of Donna. One of her outside the White House at the hot dog vendor that she and Sam love so much; one of her leaving her apartment building; one is of her getting out of the motorcade with me. 

But the last one is the one that actually makes me sit down. 

It’s one of her sleeping in her bedroom some night. This fucking psychopath was actually either in her room or at her window. And she’s sleeping peacefully, having no clue that pure evil is about eight feet away from her. 

“Where is she right now?” I croak.

“Home.” Ron says.

“You know that for a fact? You know that right now she’s okay?” I demand.

“Yes, Josh.” Leo assures me. “She’s been followed home by two FBI agents, but given her proximity to the President, Ron wants to set up a secret service detail.”

Something Donna said to me the other day comes drifting back to me. ‘If anything ever happened to me, chances are it’s going to be when I’m standing next to you and I’m going to be an also dead.’ Then she went on to joke that they’d probably get her name wrong. 

I blew her off at the time. I thought she was being dramatic. But the truth is, I got shot because I was standing too close to the President one night. Why wouldn’t something like that also happen to her?

“Does she know about this?” I ask.

“Not yet.” Ron says. “We need her authorization for the secret service detail.” 

“And you know how Donna is.” Leo says knowingly to me.

I do. Donna would never want this. She wouldn’t want to be a bother to anyone. She’d be mortified this level of attention is being given to her.

But that’s just too damn bad.

I pounce on my coat and grab my keys. “Give me the folder.” I say to Ron holding out my hand. “I’ll have it signed for you in the morning.” Ron hands it over and I drop the pictures in.

“What are you doing?” Leo asks.

“I’m going to her apartment and I’m going to make her sign it.” I say. “She’ll listen to me. I mean, isn’t that why you came to me to begin with?” They’re silent. I figured. 

I literally run out of the White House, thanking God along my way that I drove today and didn’t walk or take the Metro. The ride to her place is quick and since I don’t get accosted by two FBI agents as I storm her building, I’m assuming they were told I’d be stopping by. I use my key to get into the building and then take the steps to her floor two at a time. 

I pound on her door and bellow her name. I think it’s after midnight, but I don’t care. And it’s not like I haven’t been loud outside her apartment at some un-Godly hour before. I’m surprised I’ve never made the paper for it actually.

I’m just about to impatiently use my key when she opens the door and I abruptly push by her. 

“What’s the matter?” she yawns in greeting. What kills me now, I mean what actually gets me right in the fucking heart is that she’s smiling drowsily at me now. She probably assumes I’m drunk and isn’t awake enough yet to get pissed about it. 

I move around her apartment with purpose and close all her curtains. Before closing the ones in her bedroom, I look out onto the fire escape.

“Josh?” she asks curiously. “What’s going on?” 

“Have you gotten any phone calls tonight?” I demand.

“Just my mom.” She says. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing else? The phone hasn’t rung at all? Not calls where you answered and no one was there or anything like that?”

“No.” she says frowning. “Josh, what’s going on? What’s that?” She points to the file in my hand. 

I look at her and the adrenaline and the fear running through me now gives me the feeling that I’m going to explode. How could somebody look at her and want to hurt her? What am I going to do if they succeed? 

Everything that was confusing me earlier in the night is crystal clear now. Suddenly, all my priorities completely shifted. If I have to forge her name, she’ll have secret service protection.


	2. Countdown

I'm having one of the most amazing dreams of my life, a dream by which all future dreams will be measured, when the pounding and yelling starts. Instantly, I'm pulled out of the dream and dumped unceremoniously back into my own bed. I open my eyes and can't help but suppress a little groan.

Josh...my sleepy brain reports needlessly. Of course, it's Josh. Who else would be pounding on my door at midnight?

How does he do that? One minute he's the subject of my dream and the next he's here in the flesh. I give myself a moment to play with the idea that he's here to do to me what I was just dreaming he was doing to me. I've been having increasingly vivid variations of that dream ever since the night of the second inauguration. I'm sure that stems from the fact that it was that night I began to suspect that Josh might have feelings for me that go beyond friendship or boss-assistant. Not that we’ve talked about it, of course, but I know what I know.

When the pounding continues, I let out a little sigh. Unfortunately, deep down I acknowledge that the real reason he's here after midnight is that he's either drunk or he has some desperate and twisted need to talk to me about a new issue or project.

Before the neighbors call the cops, I throw back the covers, push myself out of bed and try not to trip on anything on my way to the door. I wish he wouldn't pound on the door and make so much noise this late at night. It really isn't necessary since he's got a key, but somewhere along the line, I decided he just prefers the pounding. I think it's just something that comes naturally to him....kind of like Tarzan beating his on his chest.

Hmmm, Tarzan...Josh in a leather loin cloth. Now there's an image that was missing from my dream. Of course, I got to see and touch and do all sorts of things with naked Josh in my dream so all in all, I'd say I still came out ahead. 

I can't help but smirk at that.

Somehow managing to get to the door before Josh breaks it down, I no sooner have it open than he rushes into my apartment with his usual aplomb. He's not staggering or trailing the scent of alcohol so I'm guessing he's not drunk. Actually, he looks pretty adorable. His clothes are all rumpled and his hair is sticking up in about eighteen directions which is the way I like it best. It always makes me think of how it would look if I'd been running my hands through it.

"What's the matter?" I ask with a yawn.

Rather than answering, he gives me the strangest look and starts moving around my apartment and closing all the curtains. Slowly, bafflement begins to chip away at the sleep induced fog my brain is wrapped in.

"Josh? What's going on?"

The weird look is back on his face as he stares at me across the living room. I want to hope that this is the part where he reenacts the part of my dream where he throws me down on the couch and does illicit things to my body. But from the look on his face, that's the last thing on his mind. 

“Have you gotten any phone calls tonight?” he demands.

Well, that came out of left field. 

“Just my mom." Vaguely, I feel myself begin to frown. "What’s the matter?”

His answer is to continue throwing off the wall questions at me. “Nothing else? The phone hasn’t rung at all? No calls where you answered and no one was there or anything like that?”

For the first time, I notice the file folder in his hand. It doesn't look very thick and I hope that whatever's in it isn't important because he's gripping it so hard it's going to have permanent crimps in it. 

“No. Josh, what’s going on? What’s that?” I ask pointing at the folder in question. 

He looks down at the folder as if he’d forgotten he was holding it and then he fixes me with that weird look again. It’s the same angry-spoiling-for-a-fight look he gets when he’s about to crush an especially troublesome member of Congress.

Usually I find that look kind of hot, but now that it’s fixed on me...not so much. In fact, it’s starting to freak me out.

“What?!” I finally exclaim.

Walking over to my miniscule dining table, he opens the folder, takes out a single sheet of paper and lays it on the table.

“Sign this,” he commands pushing the paper across the table toward me.

Not, ‘please sign this’ or ‘will you sign this,’ just ‘sign this’. He should know by now that I don’t usually react well when he talks to me like that. My pleasant dream now forgotten, I stalk over to the table and snatch up the paper.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

“I’m reading it,” I snap in annoyance.

“You don’t need to read it. Just sign it.”

This time I don’t bother to answer him because I’m too busy trying to get my sleep starved brain to process what it says. 

Once I do, it’s my turn to be demanding. “What the hell is this, Josh?”

“You don’t need to worry about it; you just need to sign it.”

“Josh, it says I agree to Secret Service protection. How is that not something I need to worry about?” I throw back at him.

“Because once you sign it there won’t be anything to worry about.”

Okay, I think Josh has officially gone around the bend. I mean I know he can be a little overly protective of me sometimes, but this is a whole new level of crazy. 

I put the paper down. “Of course, I’m not going to sign it. I don’t need the Secret Service trailing around after me. The whole idea is ridiculous.”

Just to confuse me even more, he swallows hard and behind the angry-ready-for-fight-look in his eyes, I now see a hint of fear and it makes my stomach jitter.

“Please, Donna, I need you to sign it.”

Now his voice is soft and almost pleading, rather than demanding. Under almost any circumstance, that voice would get me to do whatever he asked, including following him into hell. But even that voice won't get me to agree to Secret Service protection.

"What's this about, Josh?" I ask him quietly.

My words seem to cut through him and the fight goes out of his eyes. With a resigned sigh, he reaches into the folder and pulls something out.

"It's about these."

He hands me what turns out to be two photographs. One is me at a hot dog vendor outside the White House and the other is of me and Josh getting out of a motorcade. The second one is actually a nice picture. Josh is holding the door for me and he has a guiding hand on my arm to help steady me as I get out. I wonder if he'd let me keep it. 

Still confused, I look up at him. "So what? They're just press pool pictures."

"No, Donna. They're not."

I glance down at them again. "Sure they are. The press pool is always taking shots of the motorcade."

"What about the hot dog vendor?"

"Josh, it's no big secret that I go out to that hot dog vendor to get lunch for me and Sam at least once a week. In fact, it's unusual if I don't see a reporter in line with me when I'm there. I'm sure some enterprising photographer was just taking test shots or something."

"You're just not going to let me do this the easy way, are you?" he mutters.

I'm still baffled. "Do what?"

He opens the folder, pulls out another photo, and I begin to wonder what else he's got in there. 

"What do you think of this one?" he asks.

Taking the picture from him, I see that objectively it's also a nice picture. The only problem is I have to admit, this one does worry me a little. It's a photo of me leaving my apartment. Why would someone be taking pictures of me anywhere near my apartment?

The first thing that comes to mind is that someone is trying to stir up something on me to try and embarrass Josh or the president. It reminds me of when that sleazebag photographer staked out the call girl Sam was friends with and took a picture of Sam hugging her. While they were just friends at the time, the picture looked pretty damning the way they presented it. Of course, I have no earthly clue what they might be hoping to get on me.

"It doesn't make any sense." I mumble as I look up at him. "Why would the press be taking pictures of me leaving my apartment?"

For a moment, I catch a flash of something in Josh's eyes. "It's not the press, Donna."

"Then who?" I ask him. "Where did all these pictures come from?"

"That's the problem, we don't know." He says quietly. "They were in an envelope sent to you at the White House, but there was no return address and the packaging was a little suspicious, so following procedure, the mail room passed the envelope to the Secret Service." 

"Okay." I say a little lamely. "I admit that these pictures are a little freaky, but I still don't see why it warrants Secret Service protection. These pictures aren't threatening."

Silently, apparently reluctantly, he reaches into the folder again and with all that he's been pulling out of it, I'm starting to think it might be the office equivalent of a clown car when all the clowns keep pouring out.

He hands me another photo. "No, but this one is."

For a few seconds, my brain can literally not absorb what my eyes are seeing. When it does, little black spots begin to dance in my vision. It's me sleeping in my apartment. Distantly, I hear Josh swear and the next thing I know, his arm is around my waist, he's easing me down on the couch and pushing my head between my knees.

"Just breathe, Donna."

Breathe...right. I try to do what he asks but I'm finding it surprisingly hard. My head feels like it's floating about a foot above the rest of me, but at least the black spots have stopped. That is until I lift my head a little and my eyes catch sight of the picture lying on the floor a few feet away from me where I must have dropped it.

Despite the resurgence of the black spots, I make myself look at it. The force of will it takes for me to do that helps to clear my vision again. I also realize that Josh is sitting next to me, rubbing my back comfortingly.

Slowly, I sit up. "It was taken recently." I tell him absently.

My words seem to take him by surprise. "What?"

"The bedspread in the picture is new. I only bought it a month ago." I tell him in a voice that sounds weird even to my own ears. "The picture was taken since then."

"Okay, I'll tell Ron."

Now that I've made myself look at it, I can't seem to look away. "Why would anyone do this, Josh?"

"I don't know."

"Why me?" 

"I don't know." He repeats.

"I mean, I'm nobody."

"Don't say that, don't ever say that." He says giving me a little shake. "Donna, look at me." 

The tone in his voice seems to snap me out of my trance and my head jerks around to him. 

"You're not nobody. You're an invaluable person with an important job and because of it, you can cross paths with crazy people who might do something like this. That's why you need protecting."

"Was there anything else in the package? A message or and explanation or...something?" I ask before I even have a chance to process the possible answer and whether or not I want to know. For a moment, I'm not sure if he's going to tell me or not.

"Yeah, that was the other reason the Secret Service considers it a threat. It said..."

"No!" I tell him throwing up my hand. Suddenly, even the thought of any more details are too much for me. "I don't want to know."

He seems to understand and just nods. "Please, I have it in my power to protect you. Let me do this for you." 

His eyes are all but pleading with me as I stare at him. Slowly, I nod. "Give me the paper. I'll sign it."

He jumps up off the couch and brings me the paper and a pen. Laying it on the coffee table, I sign it and hand it back to him.

"Good," he says with a nod as he gets out his cell phone and makes a call.

I don't pay attention to who he calls or what they say. I'm too busy staring at my apartment and seeing it in a whole new light. Every shadow now appears somehow sinister and I wrap my arms around myself. 

"Josh..." I say quietly, but being on the phone he doesn't hear me.

Although he's picked up the picture I dropped, the memory of it is etched into my brain. Whoever took that picture has been in my apartment or at the very least on the fire escape outside my bedroom.

That's too close for comfort or anything resembling peace of mind.

"Josh..." I repeat more loudly.

This time he looks up at me and he must see the rising level of panic on my face because he mutters into the phone that he has to go and snaps the phone closed.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't stay here." I tell him. "Not while he's out there."

"I know, pack a bag. You can stay with me tonight." 

I'm sure in the morning I'll be telling myself that staying with him is asking for trouble from CJ and Leo and a number of other people, but right now all I can think of is how the idea of staying with him makes me feel safe.

As if someone has stuck me with a pin, I jump off the couch and go into my bedroom to start packing. While he's not saying anything and I'm trying to focus on what I'm throwing into the small suitcase, I know Josh is standing in the doorway watching over me, protecting me in the only way he can until the Secret Service can take over. And if my mind wasn't going in eighteen different directions, I'd be hugging him right now.

I pack like Charles Manson, the Son of Sam and the devil himself are all on their way to my apartment. Since it doesn't even occur to me to take the time to change out of my cotton pajama pants and t-shirt before we leave, I'm belatedly thankful when Josh has the foresight to bundle me into my trench coat before we go downstairs and get in his car.

My brain must be shutting down from the overload of the evening because I can't think of a single thing to say during the drive to his apartment. Josh must be feeling the same way because he's just as silent. To make matters worse, when we finally park in front of his building and get out of the car, I see something that has my heart leaping into my throat.

"Josh." I whisper frantically as he's getting my bag out of the trunk.

"What?"

My heart is pounding so hard, it's hard for me to speak. "That car just parking across the street and the two guys in it, they were just parked in front of my apartment. I think they followed us."

Josh's head snaps around to see what I'm looking at. When he does, I see him suddenly relax. 

"They did follow us, but it's okay." He tries to reassure me. "Ron sent them, they're FBI."

I blink in surprise, I hadn't been expecting that. "The FBI? How long have they been following me?"

"Just since tonight when you left the White House." He says as he takes my arm to guide me inside his building. "Legally, Ron couldn't start a detail for you until you'd signed the papers. But since the FBI follows people all the time they didn't have that problem. Ron pulled in some favors to have two agents tail you." 

I'm finally starting to feel some anger of my own and punch him in the arm. "They followed me home from work? You knew all about this before I left work and didn't tell me?!"

"Ow! No! I just found out right before I came to see you."

Instantly, I feel badly for blowing up at him. He's done so much for me tonight and at the first opportunity I get angry with him.

"Oh, sorry."

Except for rubbing his bicep, he seems largely unfazed by my outburst. "It's all right, God, you hit hard," he says as he unlocks his apartment and we walk inside. Dropping my bag by the door, he pulls his coat off and turns on the lights. "Um, you're probably tired. Just let me change the sheets and you can have the bed."

"No, Josh, I'm not going to kick you out of your bed. Just give me a blanket and a pillow. The couch will be fine for me."

The summer after Rosslyn, I got pretty familiar with his couch and it's actually pretty comfortable.

"No, really, I think you should..."

I don't let him finish. "Please, Josh, I'm too tired to argue about it. Besides, I already feel bad enough about everyone going to so much trouble just for me. Taking your bed and making you sleep on the couch will only make it worse."

"Okay." He relents but he's frowning at me. "It's not your fault you know."

And Josh says that 'I'm' the one with freakish mind reading abilities. I swear the man has an uncanny way of reading my mind sometimes too. 

"Oh, sure it is." I say dropping down on the couch with a mirthless chuckle. "You know me, I tend to attract gomers. Apparently I did a really good job of it this time."

He moves so fast, he seems to all but appear next to the couch. His presence looms over me and he looks down at me with a fierceness that makes my stomach jitter.

"It's not your fault," he repeats.

"Okay, okay, fine." I say, too tired to argue about it.

"Say it."

"It's not your fault." I intone trying for some kind of levity.

"Donna..."

"Fine! It's not my fault." I blurt. "Are you happy now?"

Yeah, I’m sure that convinced him.

He sits down beside me and gently takes my hand in his. Under normal circumstances my heart would be doing handstands that he was holding my hand, but given that it took the threat of a stalker to do it, just makes me more tired and a little sad.

"It really isn't your fault." He says with quiet sincerity. "Anymore than it was CJ’s fault she had a stalker or Charlie's fault that I got shot."

Okay, now he's just playing dirty. The fact that he brought up CJ’s issues with her stalker and her guilt over Simon Donovan's death and we all know how guilty Charlie still feels over the fact that the white supremacists were aiming for him and hit Josh, make it hard for me to keep up my little guilt-ridden pity party.

Apparently he can see he's getting through to me at least on some level because he gives my hand a squeeze. "Now say it with me like you mean it...It's not your fault."

The gentle tone he's using is the same one that makes it almost impossible for me to say no to him. "It's not my fault."

My voice was much softer than his is, but I said it and part of me even starts to believe it. The rest of me, of course, prefers to remain dubious.

"Good, now it's late so I think we both better get some sleep. Let me just go get you the pillow and blanket."

Somehow I don't think sleep is going to be an easy thing for me tonight. "Sounds good," I say instead, more for his benefit than mine.

He disappears into his bedroom while I just sit like a slug on the couch. It occurs to me then that I'm still wearing my trench coat over my pajamas, but I don't think I have the energy to even stand up and take it off. 

"Here you go." 

He bustles back into the living room with his arms full. He tosses two pillows on the end of the couch and then lays a thick blanket on the other end. 

"I brought you my robe too, just in case you needed something...hey, you're still wearing your coat." He observes. "It won't be very comfortable to sleep in. Come on, let me have it and I'll hang it up."

I'm on the verge of telling him my coat is fine where it is, but he doesn't give me much choice when he pulls me all but bodily off the couch and starts taking it off me. Part of me wants to be mad and say something rude about him treating me like a tired child, but that's just about how I feel so I don't say anything. I have a feeling that he's trying to keep me occupied so I don't have a meltdown or something. Although I have to say that I think I'm too numb and too tired for a meltdown at this point.

Once my coat is off, he holds up the soft terrycloth robe, one that I should mention I bought him the Christmas after Rosslyn because he didn't have one, and I slip it on. The smell of him envelopes me and the comfort of it goes through me like a wave. It's all I can do not to bury my nose in it.

"Do you need anything else? Some water or some tea maybe?" 

"No, thanks." I say dully as I sink back down on the couch. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll be fine." 

I can see the concern in his eyes as he stands there and fidgets slightly as he stares at me. Josh is a fixer and he wants to do what he can to make things better, but now that he's run out of ways to help me, he's at a loss.

"Okay, I'm going to turn in then. Just give a yell if you need anything."

"I will." I say with a nod and I watch as he moves around the apartment closing all the drapes, locking the doors and windows and turning off everything but the lamp by the couch.

"Well, Goodnight." He says as he slowly walks to the bedroom.

"Josh?" I call softly stopping him in the doorway. "Thank you for everything."

He glances back at me. "I'd do anything to protect you, Donna."

Before I can even begin to think of something to say to that, Josh disappears into the bedroom and I continue to sit there with his words ringing in my ears. Normally him saying things like that to me would have me smiling and my heart swelling in my chest, but right now I can't quite process it, so I just tuck it away. I don't know how long I just sit there staring at nothing, but eventually I switch off the lamp and lay down.

I force myself to close my eyes and at least try to fall asleep. It's quickly apparent that I was right and sleep won't be coming easily for me. Now that things are quiet and the dark presses in around me, all I can see is that photograph. When I close my eyes, I see it projected on the back of my eyelids and when I open my eyes I see it reflected back at me in the darkness of Josh's apartment.

For some reason, it occurs to me then that in the picture I'm lying down pretty much like I am now and that thought makes me instantly sit up again. When I do, the impact of what's happening to me...to my life, begins to take hold and a flood of questions assaults me. 

Who is he? What does he want? What is he planning? Why is he doing this? Why me?

"Donna?"

I'm so absorbed in my own thoughts, I didn't hear Josh walk into the living room and his voice, soft as is, scares the crap out of me and I jump about a foot in the air and let out a little shriek.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he says coming over to the couch. “I thought I heard a noise and came out to see if everything was okay.” He lays a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, you're shivering. Are you cold?

I'm pretty sure I’m trembling, not shivering and I realize that my face is wet from tears I don’t remember shedding. 

“I’m scared, Josh. God, I’m so scared.” I say as my voice finally cracks. Suddenly, I find it difficult to breathe because I’m crying so hard. 

“Hey, hey.” He drops down on the couch beside me, pulls me into his arms and I promptly bury my face against his chest. “Come on, don’t cry. I can’t take it when you cry.”

“I can’t...” Hiccup. “...help it.” Another hiccup. “I woke up yesterday and...” Hiccup. “...everything was fine.” Two hiccups. “And now I’ve got this...” Hiccup. “...crazy person after me.”

He continues to hug me in the dark. “Well, as someone who has crazy people after him all the time, I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to fix this...okay?”

He hands me a tissue and I blow my nose which helps me get a hold on the hiccups, so I’m only reduced to sniffling. 

“But how? You don’t even know...who he is.”

His arms go slack around me and I feel his hands move up over my arms to my shoulders. Then he takes my face in his hands and lifts my face so I’m looking at him. Even in the dark, I can see the purpose and determination glittering in his eyes. 

“We’re going to find out who he is, Donna, I swear to you.” He promises. “And when we do, I’m going to see to it that he’s thrown in the deepest, darkest pit imaginable so he never bothers you again.”

The tears start again, this time not because I’m scared, but because I believe him. Logically, I know Josh isn’t all powerful and despite his best efforts there’s an outside chance that the lunatic out there might not be caught. But I also know that he means every word of what he just said and that makes all the difference in the world to me. 

“I know you will.” I say quietly.

Apparently satisfied with my answer, his hands slide away from my face and his arms go around me pulling me close to him again. Without another word between us, he shifts us so that we can lie down together and he tucks me between him and the back of the couch. The fact that he’s positioned himself, either consciously or unconsciously, as a barrier between me and any danger that might come our way is not lost on me.

“Go to sleep.” He whispers against my hair as he begins to gently rub my back.

Surprisingly, this time, with Josh wrapped around me, his presence like a tangible calming force in my heart...my mind, it’s not long before I drift off into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Countdown

I am a master negotiator. The President of the United States and leader of the free world hired me to be his voice and his muscle with the morons currently serving their Congressional terms on the hill for precisely that reason. I know when to bully, when to bluff and when to change tactics on a dime to get whatever I want from whomever I want. There is simply no winning against the superior intellect of Josh Lyman. End of story…

“Because I said so.” I end the argument with my boss.

“What are you in third grade now?” Leo scoffs at me. So maybe the argument isn’t quite over yet, but nonetheless, I will be the victor here. “Donna is not staying with you.”

“She can’t go back to her apartment, Leo.”

“Of course she can. The locks have been changed, they’re installing a camera at the front and back entrance and she is under the protection of the United States Secret Service, who are, I’m sure you’ll be surprised to learn, more adept at personal protection than you.”

“She won’t go back there then. The picture of her in her bed that this asshole took really freaked her out, Leo. You should have seen her crying and everything.” Okay, it freaked me out a bit too, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“And I’m not indifferent to that fact, Josh, but the bottom line is that with increased protection comes increased scrutiny. How’s it gonna look her staying with you?”

“This is your counter-argument? How’s it going to look?” I say in disbelief. “Some lunatic is threatening her life, she’s scared out of her wits, and your comeback is ‘how’s it gonna look’?” I laugh humorlessly. “How’d it look when she stayed with me after Rosslyn?”

“That was different.” Leo continues. “You’d been critically injured and nobody was watching your every move…not that you had many at that point.”

“So that’s the difference? I was critically injured and she’s only in danger of being critically injured? Once this whacko gets a hold of her and critically injures her, THEN she can stay with me?” I ask sarcastically and get a Leo McGarry glare for my trouble.

“Honest to God, Josh, you could try the patience of a saint, you know that?” 

“Being Jewish I’m not entirely certain of the patience level required of a saint, but--”

“Josh!”

“She’s staying with me, Leo.” I reiterate just as Margaret alerts us to the arrival of Ron Butterfield who is shown right in.

“Ron, save my sanity and tell Josh that Donna is just as safe at her apartment as she is at his apartment.” 

Ron looks uncomfortable at Leo before answering. “Well…actually…”

“See?!” I pounce on Ron’s hesitancy in lieu of actual, you know, evidence of any kind. “Even Ron thinks she’d be safer staying with me. And he has TONS of experience with these things.”

“I’m sure Agent Butterfield is heartened by your confidence in him.” Leo drawls. “Ron, seriously? Are you seriously telling me Donna is safer at Josh’s right now?”

“It’s a better neighborhood, he already has some security in place, and my…considerable experience…tells me that sometimes adding one additional layer of protection, like another person living with the target, can sometimes be enough to scare the guy off.” Ron shrugs. “I’m not telling you Miss Moss SHOULD stay at Mr. Lyman’s apartment. It’s our job to safeguard her wherever she’s residing. But if you’re asking me which location would be easier to secure; that would be Mr. Lyman’s apartment.”

Leo looks truly vexed now. “Margaret?” He calls out into the hall. “Get Donna in here, will you please?” Then he turns back to Ron and me. “Ron, how long term are we looking here? Days? Weeks? Months?”

“That’s impossible to predict.” Ron shakes his head slowly. “We have good people on this and I’d like to think that we’re looking at a matter of a few weeks, but there’s just no way to predict when the case will reach a successful conclusion.”

“Do you have ANY leads?” I ask. “Any indication as to whether this guy is some loony amateur or a serious threat?”

“Mr. Lyman, if we hadn’t already determined this was a serious threat, we wouldn’t have suggested Secret Service protection for Miss Moss.” 

“Fair point.” I admit. “Which leads me back to our original point of contention. Donna is staying with me until this investigation reaches a successful conclusion.” I parrot Ron’s words.

“Are you sure she wants to stay with you, Josh?” Leo asks and I have to admit that the question floors me. Of course she wants to stay with me…right?

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand.

“Just that perhaps, now that the initial shock has worn off, maybe the idea of staying with you for several days, or longer, isn’t her first choice of safe houses.” Leo says disdainfully.

I’m saved from coming up with a witty retort by the arrival of Donna Moss herself. She’s still pale and her eyes are missing their usual sparkle. I don’t think she got more than a few minutes of sleep at a time all night. Then, she catches sight of Ron and I see her whole body start to shake.

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay.” I assure her and help her sit in the nearest chair. “Ron’s just here to talk to us about what precautions we need to take until they can throw this asshole into a cell.” I stroke her back with my hand in what I hope is a soothing motion and she turns her head into my shoulder as she fights the tears. I look up at Leo to be sure he’s noting all this support Donna is getting from me. He rolls his eyes.

“Donna?” He calls her name softly. “I know this has to be frightening. I don’t want to make things any more difficult for you right now, but I’m not sure staying with Josh, under the circumstances, is the best idea for you or-”

Donna sends a panicked look to Leo before turning to me. “You said I could stay as long as I wanted. You promised!” She’s going from 0 to 60 in 1.2 seconds, ladies and gentlemen.

“I have no problem with it.” I hasten to add. “Even Agent Butterfield thinks it would be safer for you, but Leo seems to think--”

Donna’s head swivels back to Leo. “I quit.” 

“Excuse me?” Leo startles.

“Excuse me?” I repeat. What the hell?

“If Ron thinks it’s a good idea, then the only reason Leo would object is because it looks bad for someone who works for you, a female someone, to be staying with you. So if I quit…” Even sleep deprived and scared spitless Donna is sharp as a tack.

“Donna, nobody is asking you to resign your position here.” Leo states.

“I’m not going back to that apartment.” Donna sounds absolutely steadfast. “You can’t make me go back there.”

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to go back there. Who would under the circumstances? I’m just saying there are other possibilities. I know any number of your colleagues here would be happy to have you stay with them until this is resolved.” Leo tries again.

Donna simply shakes her head ‘no’ slowly. “Josh promised I could stay with him. I’m staying with Josh.” I smile triumphantly and Leo sighs knowing he’s in a corner now. 

“Perhaps our time would be better served going over the safety precautions we’re going to be employing to keep Miss Moss safe wherever she is.” Ron suggests. 

“It would seem so.” Leo agrees. “Use Josh’s office. I want an update every twelve hours on the status of the investigation.”

“Yes, sir.” Ron confirms and I’d almost swear I see Ron give Donna a reassuring wink. We head back to my office for our briefing with Ron, and I can’t help one thought from going through my head, ‘I win…again’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Not that tie.” I tell him. “The blue one; I left it out for you on your bed.”

Josh pulls off the half tied-tie and predictably, throws it on the floor before he reaches for the approved tie on his bed.

“Do you have the--” He doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before I shove the appropriations folder he’s about to request into his chest.

“You can look over the final numbers while you eat a bagel.” I instruct.

“I’m not hungry, Donna.”

“Not so much now, no, but by the time you get through staff you’ll be starving and you won’t have time between staff and your meeting on the hill.” I sum up.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He shrugs and walks into the kitchen to toast one of the bagels I purchased the last time that I went shopping.

“Do you have any idea the kind of time and energy I could save if you would just assume I’m right in the first place and went from there?” I ask cheekily.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” He snarks; but since he says it as he’s toasting a bagel and drinking the juice I purchased to go with it, I decide to let it go.

It’s been six days since my impromptu move-in with Josh and sometimes it amazes me how natural it feels to be here with him. It’s like the summer after Rosslyn, only without the painful rehabilitation and the nasty medical duties. There haven’t been any further threats or photos sent to me or anyone at the White House and I’m finally able to stay somewhat relaxed when we’re traveling back and forth to the White House. We haven’t attracted the attention of any reporters yet either, so it’s a win/win for me at this point.

We ride to and from work in a car driven by the Secret Service so Josh, naturally, has used this opportunity to get in a little more work time. I guess I don’t really mind. All the work has kept my mind off less pleasant thoughts. Like who took that picture of me sleeping in my bed and just where they were standing when they took it. I give an involuntary shudder. Josh notices.

“You okay?” He asks around a bite of bagel and cream cheese.

“Fine.” I answer quickly and as a distraction, I use my finger to wipe a bit of cream cheese from the side of his mouth and smile at his messy eating habits. He startles at my move until I hold up the cream cheese covered finger as evidence for why I touched him like that. Then his face breaks into a self-deprecating grin and I grin back. Suddenly, he loses the playful grin and his look turns into something else that I can’t quite identify and I feel my smile fade away too. We simply stand there staring at each other for a good minute or two while something continues to build inside me. He moves a little closer to me and I can feel my eyes widen. 

We jump apart like kids caught out on the front porch after curfew when there’s a pounding at the front door. Josh hurries out to the living room to answer the summons. The Secret Service gets a little nervous when we’re running late, which is a fair amount of the time, so they knock to make sure it’s just us running late rather than us being held against our will in here or something.

“Good morning, Mr. Lyman, are you and Miss Moss ready to leave?” Agent Parker asks without sounding judgmental. 

“Yeah…sorry, Donna insisted I eat a bagel for God’s sake.” He rolls his eyes but he’ll thank me for it later. I hand him his backpack and grab my purse and we follow agent Parker down to the waiting car.

There’s nothing particularly pressing all day. It’s busy, we work in the White House after all, but there’s nothing urgent or anything that requires my full concentration so I have plenty of time to ponder that moment this morning in the kitchen. Just what was Josh about to say or do before Agent Parker announced his presence? And could Parker possibly have worse timing?

If things are getting awkward between us it might be better for me to make the move back to my place…Okay, no, I’m not ready to do that I guess. I’ve decided I don’t want to live there anymore, regardless of how any of this turns out. But maybe it was time for me to look at alternate living arrangements; find a new apartment. Josh has been wonderful through all this and I’ll be eternally grateful for everything he’s done for me, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome and end up ruining my relationship with my best friend.

As I think about that, it seems like finding a new place to live should be moved up on my priority list. I’ll talk to Josh about it tonight when we get home.

Wait! See? It’s that kind of thing that has me worried. ‘We’ are not going home tonight. Josh is going home and I’m simply…visiting. Still, more and more, I find myself making those kinds of slips. Even after my brief stint as a psychology major I have to admit it’s of the Freudian variety. The longer I stay there with Josh, the worse it’s going to get and Josh isn’t going to kick me out in the middle of this mess no matter how uncomfortable my presence might make him feel.

Yes, it looks like I’m going apartment hunting…Damn it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Tell me again why we didn’t just order pizza.” I demand. 

“Because we’ve had it twice this week already and I was in the mood to cook.” Donna answers absently. She’s making Alfredo sauce from scratch, and while it smells incredible, it’s taking far too long to make. I’m starving.

“You’re hardly starving, Joshua. You had the carrots and dip I gave you at four.” She points out, reading my mind. It used to freak me out when she did that. Now, I’ve just learned to enjoy it. 

“I FEEL like I’m starving.” I split hairs. “The sauce smells fantastic. Let’s eat.” 

“The cheese isn’t completely melted yet.” She objects. “Put the bread in the oven to warm up and open the wine.” 

She’s giving me busy work now. It’s a typical Donna maneuver. Distract Josh with mindless busy work until she’s ready for whatever we’re doing next. I sigh loudly to let her know I’m not fooled by her moves. She smirks back at me to let me know she’s not fooled by my long suffering sigh. She’s right; I’m hardly suffering having Donna with me 24/7. I get to hang out with my best friend all the time, she cooks amazing food for us, and I get to see for myself that she’s safe.

There have been some odd moments here and there. The episode in the kitchen this morning for instance. When Donna moved so close to me and raised her hand to my cheek, I almost stopped breathing. Then when I saw the cream cheese on her finger and realized she was cleaning me up rather than…well, something else, I almost decided I was brave enough to make the next move myself. 

See, I’ve discovered something about myself in the last week. Well, something about me and Donna anyway. Something I have long suspected but have not yet acted upon in any way. Mostly on account of I’m a chicken, but there have been other considerations as well. Things almost boiled over on Inauguration night but somehow between Khundu and you know, work for the President, things simmered back down again. However, I have the feeling that with this enforced physical proximity may bring things back to a boil sooner rather than later and I have to say I’m quite okay with that. I open the wine, put the bread in the oven as instructed, and after a suitable breathing period, pour a glass for each of us. I hand one glass to Donnatella while she continues to stir the sauce and take occasional tastes from the wooden spoon. That sight alone makes my heart beat a little faster. There’s just something cozily domestic in this scene.

“It’s ready.” Donna announces very seriously. “Put some pasta on a couple plates for us and I’ll get the bread and the salad.”

Donna takes the term ‘balanced meal’ literally which I’m not as pissy about as you might imagine. We get situated at the dining room table and the chicken fettuccine alfredo tastes so incredible that I don’t even complain about the vegetables she’s snuck in there. I’m on my third or fourth bite when the trouble starts.

“I was wondering…if you could help me with something.” She says slowly.

“With what?” I answer around a mouthful of pasta.

“I need some help making a big decision and I could use another person to talk it through with me.” She explains.

“That sounds innocuous enough.” I say sarcastically. “What’s the big decision?” 

“I need to decide on a new apartment.” She tells me and I nearly spit out my food. “I can’t go back there, Josh! I just can’t!”

“No! I don’t think you should. I wouldn’t want you to.” I rush to answer. “But that’s not something you need to worry about right now, is it?”

“I’ve been here a week, Josh, and while I really appreciate your letting me stay here, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not! It isn’t an imposition.” I insist. Then another thought occurs to me. “Are you…do you not want to…” 

“NO!” Now SHE rushes to answer. “That’s not it at all. It’s just that a week’s gone by and all is quiet, so I thought I should start working on my next move.”

Yeah…about that. I’ve been getting daily briefings on the investigation along with Leo and when Donna has asked about them…it’s possible that I MAY have understated things a bit…simply in an attempt to keep her from worrying about things.

Instead of the quiet week Donna believes we had, things have ramped up in the threat department. Despite Ron’s assertion that sometimes these whackos step back when another person enters the life of the target, this guy has ramped it up. Now, it’s not just Donna who is the object of his ire. According to the latest missive he sent, she’s the liberal skank who’s fucking her boss and I’m the soulless bastard taking advantage of her. I don’t mind that he’s focusing on me now too. As far as I’m concerned the more he’s focused on me, the less he’s focused on Donna.

“I don’t think you should let the quiet week dictate your decision to move out on your own again.” I hedge. “He could be just biding his time right now, waiting for a more--” Okay, judging by the way Donna’s eyes widened right then, I don’t think I’m saying the right thing. “What I mean is that we don’t know all the details of the investigation and there might be other details we don’t know.”

Now her eyes narrow on me. “I thought you said Ron’s giving you daily briefings?”

“He is.”

“And you told me that Ron’s team is working leads but there wasn’t anything new to report.”

“I did. Yes, I did say that.” I agree. “But that doesn’t mean he’s telling me everything.”

“Josh…Is it that Ron isn’t telling YOU everything or is it that you aren’t telling ME everything?”

“I can’t tell you EVERYTHING Donna, be reasonable. It’s an active Secret Service investigation.” I try for misdirection.

“You’re lying to me.” Donna’s lips purse. He swings and it’s a strike, ladies and gentlemen. 

“I’m not.” I lie again but wisely keep my eyes on my plate. “This sauce is amazing.”

“You are too.” She completely ignores my compliment on the food. “You won’t even look at me. What aren’t you telling me, Joshua?” Strike two.

“It’s not my job to share details of a Secret Service investigation, Donna.” I object. “And honestly, the details aren’t something you want to hear. Remember how you felt after you saw the pictures? You want to feel like that every damn day?”

“There’s more stuff? Coming every day?” She asks in a panic.

“No, not every day, just… Jesus, this is why I didn’t want to mention it to you in the first place. What good is served by you reading all the details?”

Donna just takes her plates and leaves me alone at the table.

“Donna, wait. Please.” I follow her into the kitchen even though I had to leave the delicious meal on the table. “You have to understand--”

“What I understand is that you lied to me.” She says shortly and tosses her silverware into the sink with an angry flourish. 

“I didn’t LIE to you, I just left some details out.”

“A lie of omission then.” She scoffs.

“And I only did that because I didn’t want you to be so upset again. I did it for you!” I protest. Surely that counts for something! Judging by Donna’s expression, if it counts for something it isn’t much. 

Instead of responding to me, Donna marches to the front door and snaps it open to the surprise of the Agent at the door. “Can you please tell Agent Monroe I need to speak with him for a minute?”

“Donna…” I protest weakly.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” The Agent at the door asks.

“Not with him.” She sends me a nasty glare. “I just need to speak with him for a few minutes about the investigation.”

“He’s on his eight hours off, ma’am, so I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping, but I can wake him if you need to--”

“No, please don’t do that. Will you just let him know I’d like to speak with him when he’s back on duty?”

“Of course ma’am.” The Agent sends me a relieved glance and shuts the door again. Donna turns on her heel and goes into the guest room she’s been staying in this past week without another word to me. Shit.

I wait a few minutes, hoping that perhaps given a little time, she’ll calm down a bit. But when I approach the door, it’s slightly ajar and it’s not angry sounds I hear, but crying. 

I push the door open the rest of the way and walk over to where she’s sitting on the bed with her back to me, crying into a pillow. I cautiously sit next to her and try to put my arm around her shoulder in comfort, but she shakes me off.

“I’m sorry, Donna, I was just trying to protect you I swear.” 

“You LIED to me. I trusted you!” She lifts her head long enough to practically spit the words at me. 

“Please don’t cry. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just, please understand that I was only looking out for you. That was my only motivation; keeping you safe and happy.”

That seems to mollify her a little, but the tears are still streaming down her face. “All week…I mean ALL WEEK I was thinking it was such a good sign that we hadn’t heard from this nut. Maybe he’d moved on to someone else or given up entirely. I thought I could start looking for a new place and forget this ever happened and now…”

“I’m sorry.” I repeat. “That wasn’t what I- I thought I could protect you.” 

Donna’s pacing back and forth now trying, I think, to work off some nervous/angry energy.

“I don’t understand how you could look me in the eyes and tell me everything was fine when it wasn’t!”

“Yes, it was. It was fine.” I object. “Ron and his team were doing their thing, you were here with me and safe; everything was fine.”

“You let me believe--”

“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat!” I explode. Why doesn’t she get this? “It ripped me apart watching you look at those photos! It kills me to see you upset over the bizarre threats of some anonymous moron! I would hop on a plane and take you to Hawaii right now if I thought you’d go just to get you away from this.”

“It’s not your job to take care of this, Josh.”

“It’s got nothing to do with my job, Donna. That’s insulting. I did it because I care about you. I hid it from you because I didn’t want you upset or stressed. I did it because that’s what you do when you--” I stop abruptly and the two of us stand frozen a couple feet from each other with our eyes flashing and breath labored from our fight. 

“That’s what you do when you…what?” Donna prompts me. 

“When you…care…about someone…a lot.” I tell her softly and even manage to keep eye contact with her. 

“I worry that you just…feel sorry for me…or feel protective like a big brother.” She practically whispers and I take a couple steps closer to her. 

“Not so much.” I feel my lips quirk.

“How do you know that’s not what this is?” She presses and I give her my disbelieving look; like she’s just insulted my intelligence. Which is, I guess what she’s doing, only it’s my emotional IQ she’s testing.

“I know what brotherly feelings are like. I have them for CJ. I know what pity feels like. I sometimes feel that for Republicans. This…feeling isn’t pity or fraternal.” I assure her and tentatively wipe a tear from her cheek. “And it’s been around for a long time. Maybe it just took the threat of losing you to realize just how far and deep the feelings go.”

“That was pretty eloquent there, Joshua.” She smiles shyly.

“I have my moments.” I brag before I lean down and touch my lips to hers; once, then twice.

“You certainly do.” She murmurs before taking my mouth with hers. It’s a couple more minutes before we come up for air. “No more keeping stuff from me, okay?”

I roll my eyes, but nod ‘yes’. 

“I mean it, Josh. I was this close to blowing off the detail tonight because I thought there wasn’t any more threat.” She holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. The thought makes my blood freeze. I hadn’t thought about that kind of byproduct to my well intentioned deception. “If you’re not comfortable talking to me about the details, I’ll get them from Ron or David Monroe, but you can’t hide things from me anymore.”

“I promise.” I tell her. “And along those lines…there’s something else I should tell you.”

“This is because you know I’ll hear whatever it is from Monroe tomorrow and you don’t want me to get pissed again, right?” She guesses accurately. 

“Your…nemesis isn’t very happy with your choice of moving in here with me. He’s had some choice things to say about both of us and the lack of morality in the Bartlet White House.”

“Well honestly, I don’t think he was my biggest fan to begin with so now that he thinks I’m a slut too it really doesn’t make a difference to- Wait. Is he threatening you now? Because I’m staying here with you?” She looks alarmed. 

“He’s threatening a whole laundry list of people, Donna.”

“But he’s threatening you BECAUSE I’m here with you?” She decides she’s right without another word from me. “We need to call Ron right now and ask him to find someplace else for me to stay.”

“We are NOT doing anything of the kind.” I stop her from moving to the phone. “You are staying here, with me, where we already have security set up. That’s not up for debate, Donna.”

“Oh, it’s not?” She lifts her eyebrows at me. 

“No, it’s not.” I repeat. “For once, being your boss is going to pay off for me. I am ordering you to stay here.”

Her lips twitch. “I don’t think you have the authority to give me orders about my personal life.”

“It’s in your job description. You have to be available to assist the Deputy Chief of Staff whenever he needs assistance. I need a LOT of assistance, Donna.”

“That much is true.” She drawls. “I just don’t want to put you in any danger. I don’t know what I’d do if you were hurt because of me.”

“That’s not going to happen. We have some of the most well trained people in the world looking out for us.” That’s a cop out and we both know it. I was almost killed under the nose of the Secret Service at Rosslyn. Simon Donavon, an agent himself, was killed while working a protective detail for CJ. It happens. But the odds are with us on this one and after all we’ve been through, don’t we deserve a break?


	4. Countdown

He’s grasping at straws. He’s saying anything he can get to stick to the wall. He was nearly killed while under the protection of the Secret Service, of course, they weren’t protecting HIM specifically at the time, so maybe there’s a better chance now. 

The look in his eyes right now is one that I’ve only seen once before…when he was trying to get me to sign the authorization for Secret Service protection, and I see it now for what it is and what I didn’t know it was then…desperation.

“It’s just that if something happened to you while someone was trying to get me…” I whisper. “If a bullet that was meant for me…”

“I’ve got precedent there!” he says. 

“Josh!”

“I do though! Donna, that’s already happened to me and here I am. I’ve got good odds in that department.”

“Josh…” I smile lightly at him.

“Donna, this whole thing is making me nuts and when you’re out of my line of sight, I get extremely freaked out and all I do is obsess over whether or not you’re okay. If you’re staying somewhere else, those thoughts will consume me. I won’t be able to function until I see you next.” 

See that sounds twisted, except I know it’s true. Josh walks around with a feeling that impending doom is going to befall everyone he cares about. 

I let out a half laugh and he takes it as a good sign and steps forward and takes my hand. “So we stick together then?” He asks softly. When I nod, he leans forward and kisses me again. 

The outside world falls away as his fingers rest lightly on my jaw and he changes the angle of the kiss. I’m usually a more active participant than this in a kiss, but at the moment, I sigh and sag against him and just let him kiss me. Because right now I believe him when he said he’d do anything to protect me, and while I don’t want to think too hard about what he’s willing to do, I can’t help but feel wrapped in protectiveness by him. If this guy somehow manages to get through an entire Secret Service detail (and Josh hasn’t said this, but I imagine he’s getting one too), he still has to get through Josh. 

And it’s that thought alone that gives me the courage to pull gently on his shirt and back up until my knees hit the back of the bed and we tumble backwards. He runs a hand down my side and kisses me some more and I’m content to do just this for a while. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Josh?”

“Mmpf…”

“Josh?”

“Hmfprg…”

“Josh!”

“What!?” I yelp from under my pillow. You know, I was having a really good dream. I’ll give you the salient details: me, Donna, no clothes. You figure out the rest.

“The alarm is going to go off in a few minutes.”

“Good.” I leer, sliding my hand along her stomach. “Then we have some time.” 

She brushes my hand away and I pout. It doesn’t work on her. 

“The alarm is in other room.”

What?

I lift my head and take in my surroundings. We’re both still wearing what we were in last night. We must have fallen asleep in the guest room. When I finally won the battle for Donna to stay here, I cleaned out all the crap in the guest room for her. You should have seen the look on her face, she was stunned. I didn’t even do that when she stayed here while I was recovering, but that was because I was trying to get her to go home and take care of herself better. Now, it’s pure lov – necessity… no, all right, it’s love.

“Why are you awake?” I frown. I know she barely sleeps at night. I know this because I barely sleep at night right now too.

“It’s this uncanny ability I have to always wake up a few minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off.”

“That’s freakish. Why am I not surprised?” She rolls her eyes and gives me a little shove. “So you slept then?” I ask and slide my hand around to her back, as she looks up at me with wide trusting eyes.

“It’s the first time I slept through the night all week.” She whispers. 

“Am I…” damn that catch in my throat! “Am I that boring?”

“It’s the first time I felt truly safe.” She blushes and I smile. 

See, I really don’t think I could overpower some armed lunatic that overpowered the Secret Service. All I can do is throw my body on hers, which is my current plan.

“Good.” I know I give her a goofy grin. 

I lean in a bit towards her, pause a moment to take in her beautiful morning smile, and then lean in the rest of way to wish her a good morning properly.

“I have an idea…” I whisper against her lips. 

“As much as I’m looking forward to that next step, Josh, I think we should explore this stage a little more.” She replies. How sweet was that?

“Well, I’m tickled that you’re looking forward that, Donnatella, but believe it or not, that wasn’t my idea.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“It really wasn’t!”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Let’s stay here today.” I blurt.

“What?”

“Instead of going in to work, let’s work from home.” I say quickly. “I’ve got everything I need. I had one meeting this afternoon and Toby can take that.”

“What’s Leo going to say?” 

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “If I’m accessible to them and getting stuff done, he can’t be too mad, right?”

“You’re going to make me call, aren’t you?”

“No!” I laugh. “I just like the idea of just you and me hanging out today and not dealing with the outside world.”

“That we’ll have to deal with tomorrow anyway.”

“I know.” I nod and push a piece of hair behind her ear. After spending the entire night with her in my arms, kissing her, I just don’t want to go in and face the ugliness.

“I’m still going to want to talk to Agent Monroe.”

“I told you everything he’d tell you.”

“Seriously?”

“Everything I know.” 

“Well…” I think she might be caving here, probably because there was only one meeting scheduled for today. 

“We can talk…and kiss…” I say kissing her lips. “…and hang out…” I move to her neck, “…and kiss other things…”

“Joshua…” she groans and my head pops up surprised. “Don’t stop, that was nice.” 

“Wow.” I say. “You’ve never… you’ve never said my name like that it’s…I like it.” 

“Like what exactly?”

“All husky and…”

“Hot with desire?”

“Yeah that.” 

She gives me quite the saucy look and then slides her hand down my side and under my t-shirt. Her fingers graze over the scar on my side by chance and her eyes widen a bit. She pushes me onto my back and I’m a little confused. She pulls my shirt up a bit and her thumb grazes across my scar as she inspects it and then looks up at me.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Let’s stay home today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Q-U-I-X-O-T-I-C. Q and X are 10 point letters, X is on a double letter, so that makes…”

“Hold it!” Josh yelps. “You had a Q AND an X? What are the odds of that?” 

“You caught me.” I drone. “I happen to have a Scrabble X hanging out in my pocket in the event I was ever playing against you and had a Q, too.”

“It’s a conspiracy.”

“It is.” I nod. “Parker Brothers has a few of us assigned to you to test that 760 verbal.”

“This is crap.”

“It is. But I have faith in you. There are plenty of words in the English language that have Q’s in them with no U. I’m sure you can build off that.”

“Qaid, qats, suqs, qoph, faqir…”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Oh, and I’M the nerd?” I arch a brow at him, but he looks rather impressed with himself right now. I am, too. I can’t even pronounce ‘qoph’. 

“Qwerty.” 

“Thank you, Webster.” 

“Does that annoy you?” He smirks.

“No, actually, it…”

“It what?”

“It’s kind of a turn on.” I blush and he smiles bigger. 

“Really?”

He leans a little across the board and I’d lean in, but I like the idea of making him come to me. That’s a bit of a turn on, too.

“Yeah, I’ve always liked the brainy ones.” 

“I’m very cerebral.” He whispers right before his lips touch mine and the Secret Service comes through the door. We jump apart as Agent Monroe looks us over.

“Since you didn’t mention it to us, I’m assuming you did not order a pizza.” He says to us and Josh raises his eyebrows and shakes his head no. “Negative.” Agent Monroe says into his wrist and then closes and locks the door. “You two need to stay where I can see you.”

My breathing increases and Josh yanks me across the game board and into his arms. “It’s okay.” He whispers. “There’s three armed guards out there and Agent Monroe inside. It’s all right.”

I nod and bury my head in his chest. So much for feeling safe at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hold onto Donna tightly as she trembles in my arms. Agent Monroe touches his ear and then nods to me. “We’re clear.”

“You have him in custody?” I confirm.

“Yes, sir.” 

“See, Donna? It’s over. They’re good at their job.” I whisper to her and look over at Agent Monroe. “You’ll brief us when you’re done questioning him?”

“Yes, sir.” Agent Monroe steps back out into the hallway. 

I raise Donna’s face to mine and she throws her arms around my neck. I think keeping her in the dark all week made this a little more shocking. 

There are really no words that can calm her down now. I can only hope that the pizza deliver guy was this psycho and this is now over. 

Agent Monroe re-enters the apartment. “It seems the pizza parlor received a phone call from a pay phone in Foggy Bottom for an order at this address. He checks out, but Agent Butterfield wants to question him further. Right now, I think your guy called the order in to check the level of security around you right now.” 

“Well, now he knows it’s pretty heavy.” I nod like an idiot. My heart is still racing. “Thank you for being so…good at this.” 

In typical Secret Service fashion, Agent Monroe merely blows the compliment off. “I’ll let you know when we have more information.”

He leaves the apartment again and I blow out a long breath and gently rub Donna’s back. “Are you all right?” I whisper into her hair.

“I just want it to be over.” She whispers back and clutches me harder. 

My sentiments exactly.


	5. Countdown

Awww, isn’t that nice? The dynamic duo are coming home after another hard day of work. Screwing over the American people on a daily basis must be tiring.

Oh, and look, they’ve got friends. Secret Service, naturally. The earpieces and dark suits are a dead giveaway. Well, that’s not unexpected and I have a couple of options on how to deal with them. 

What I find most interesting...funny even about this little drama I’m watching unfold, is just how predictable people can be.

Case in point, the aforementioned dynamic duo of the fair Donnatella and the long-suffering Joshua Lyman.

Or as I like to call them, the lying, manipulative bitch and her equally manipulative, not to mention self-righteous, boss.

When I started down this road, I predicted that if anyone or anything were to threaten her, she’d turn to him in a heartbeat. And that’s just what happened. All I did was send her a couple of threatening notes and some enlightening photos and presto! Now she’s all snuggled up with him in his nice Georgetown brownstone. 

Like I said, predictable.

Too bad the odds makers in Las Vegas weren’t making book on this scenario because if they had, I’d now be richer than Midas. Then again, now that I think of it, I probably wouldn’t have made all that much money. With it being such a sure thing, the odds on that bet wouldn’t have been much more than even money. Everyone in Washington apparently knows they’ve been screwing each other for years. 

Of course, it’s never been about money for me. It’s satisfaction I want. A little payback for what they took from me...what they cheated me out of. They thought I’d just go quietly away. Well, I’ve got news for them. I’m back and I’m not going anywhere until I get the satisfaction that is due to me.

From my viewpoint across the street, I watch the lights go on in Lyman’s apartment. It’s really too bad I wasn’t able to get a camera inside. I know it’s voyeuristic of me, but I’d love to see how the two of them spend their time...beyond all the sex I’m sure they’re having. Of course, I have to admit that watching them have sex would be a little too much for me to watch. But hey, wouldn’t the video be great spread all over the internet? Sex videos are all the rage. God, that would have them twisting in the wind, wouldn’t it? Talk about payback and embarrassing payback at that.

Ah, well, for now I’ll just have to settle for the great vantage point that I managed to get for myself. It sure does pay to still have friends in the government that can access DMV and personal information on Lyman...yes, that was very helpful. The information and the predictability of the players in this little drama made it very simple to set up things here even before I mailed the first letter to the White House.

But you know what I can’t figure out is why they’ve even put up a pretense of being apart in the first place? It seems to me that it would have saved all of us a lot of time and trouble if they just had it out in the open. I know that the story of the boss screwing his younger blonde assistant is a pretty cliché, but give me a break. Who the hell would really care? 

Oh, I know all about the political scandal and keeping up appearances, but if they’ve been together for as long as I now suspect, why hide it? I’m sure the White House pays that Cregg woman a king’s ransom to spin stories like that. If she put a little effort into it, maybe she could even spin it into some kind of DC love story and get some good press out of it.

I can’t help but snort. I must be losing my mind to think something like that. It’s more likely that the two of them don’t want it spun into something positive. They probably enjoy sneaking around. Maybe it gives them a little thrill to think they’re fooling everyone. I’m sure they got a great laugh over fooling me. 

Well, that’s something I’ll have to quiz Donna about when I get her alone. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll tell me everything I want to know and I promise you that neither of them will ever laugh at me again. 

But I’m not quite ready for that end game yet so for now it will have to wait. In my previous career, I learned quickly that strategy is very important and I definitely have mine laid out. And I can afford to be patient now. I’ve got nothing better to do. Thanks to them I’ve got all the time in the world.

Besides, I don’t want to kill them...not yet anyway. I want...no I NEED to make them both squirm and wonder what’s going to happen next. Mess with their heads, just like they messed with mine.

Speaking of which, I think it’s about time for me to shake things up a bit. The pizza delivery was just the opening salvo. I had to let them know I am still out here and that I know exactly where they are.

But now I’m ready for something bigger. Things are in place and all I need is an opening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I try to read the report I'm supposed to be making note cards for, but it's pretty hopeless. I've gone over the same page four times and not only can't I remember anything I've read, but I've also got the beginnings of a raging headache building behind my eyes. 

I look over at Josh, who's sitting on the other end of his couch reading a briefing book that's bigger than my first car. He looks focused, calm, and collected.

And I'm pretty sure I want to throw something at him.

I fully admit that I'm not being logical. Since this thing started, Josh has been really great and he hasn’t said or done anything to warrant any kind of physical or verbal pummeling from me. He's even been letting us come home at a decent hour most nights, insisting on it even, which I appreciate on one level, but on another level is freaking me out. 

Actually just about everything freaks me out these days. The Secret Service agents who follow us around like shadows, every blind corner, every weird noise, every envelope or package that comes across my desk or Josh's, and every person I don't know very well just to name a few. Heck, even people I see everyday freak me out with very little provocation. Will Bailey found that out this morning when he walked up behind me, asked me a question, and promptly found himself covered in the lukewarm tea I'd been drinking when I jumped about three feet in the air.

The only thing I wish Josh would do is more of the kissing. So far things between us have been relatively innocent. Although we haven’t talked about it, I get the feeling he’s treating this new phase of our relationship very delicately. I assume part of it is the whole mortal danger aspect and the fact that he wants to wait until this mess is resolved before pressing the issue or taking things any farther. 

Okay, maybe I don’t want to throw something at him as much as I want to throw him down on the couch or, you know, the floor or any other handy flat surface and do things to him that make us both forget there are armed guards outside. 

The problem is I’m not entirely sure how he’d react to that, so instead, I toss the report on the coffee table and push myself off the couch.

"Where are you going?" he asks with a little frown.

For a moment, I literally don't know what to tell him. All I know is that I have the need to GO somewhere. Somewhere I don't have bodyguards and definitely somewhere I don't have a stalker threatening my life or Josh's. 

"Why? Do I need permission to leave the room now?"

The look he gives me is both surprised and confused and if I’m not mistaken, a little hurt. Okay, so my answer might have been snappier than he deserved for what was probably an innocent question, but I seem to be on a short fuse these days. 

“No, of course not.” He finally answers. “I just wondered.”

Mentally, I try counting to ten. “I’m just going to the kitchen to get a snack or something.” I guess the kitchen is as a good a place as any to go.

"Oh, oh kay," he says and after giving me a long look, he buries his head back in the briefing book.

I try not to stomp into the kitchen. Once I get there, I have no idea what to do next. I’m really not hungry or thirsty and honestly, and when I toss out those two requirements, the kitchen is not a big improvement over the living room. But there’s no way I’m going to go back into the living room without something resembling food or drink or Josh is sure to subject me to more questions.

So I start with the fridge which has almost nothing in it except the left over Chinese food we had for dinner, various condiments, two bottles of beer and some water. For some reason, that only serves to sour my mood further. 

I mean, can’t he ever go grocery shopping? Oh, yeah, if I ever want food in his fridge that’s usually my job and for the most part I’m not allowed to go out in public. There’s another thought to brighten my day.

Next I move on to his cabinets, although again, I have no idea what I’m looking for.

If possible, the kitchen cabinets are more empty than the fridge. In addition to the standard compliment of dishes and glasses, there’s an industrial sized can of coffee, big surprise, some tea I left here when I stayed with him after Rosslyn, assorted stale crackers and cookies, a very old box of macaroni and cheese, and finally, a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of scotch.

Right about now, the bottles of whiskey and scotch hold the most attraction for me. He doesn't have the things I'd need to make a whiskey sour, but I really don't care. Taking the bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and I wonder just how fast I could get drunk. Maybe if I pass out I won’t have to think about the black hole my life has become. Lord knows, I’d probably have a better chance of getting a full night’s sleep which is more than I’ve managed in the last week. 

It’s kind of hard to sleep very well when I keep having nightmares.

"What on earth are you looking for?" 

Despite all the times I've told him he's not very stealthy, Josh manages to sneak up on me. I jump slightly and it's all I can do to keep a grip on the whiskey bottle so I don't drop it.

"God, Josh! Get a bell or something. You scared the crap out of me!" 

Standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes flick to the bottle clutched in my hand and when his eyes meet mine again, I see concern in them. "What are you doing, Donna?"

"Nothing. I just wanted something to drink, is that a crime?" I say, hating the defensive tone in my voice.

"I'm not sure that you should be drinking that particular beverage right now."

"What difference does it make?" I snap back. "I'm an adult, I can have a drink if I want to."

Silently, he walks over to me, takes the bottle out of my hand and replaces it with his own hand. "Donna, what’s wrong?" he says quietly.

I'm mortified to find that suddenly I'm close to tears. Here, I've done nothing but snap and bitch at him this evening and Josh is standing here holding my hand and being understanding and sweet. Now, in addition to everything else, I feel about two inches tall.

"Nothing. I...just forget it." I tell him as I walk away. Or try to. He gently captures my arm and pulls me into a hug. "Talk to me, Donna." He whispers into my hair. "What did I do to make you so angry?"

I feel the tears start and I squeeze my eyes close to keep from dissolving into a sobbing heap. How do I tell him when I don't know myself?

I blurt out the first thing that I can think of. "You don't have any chocolate." 

Completely confused, he pulls back to look at me. "What?" 

"Oh, Josh..." I say feeling immensely tired and weepy as I rest my forehead against his shoulder. "I'm sorry...you haven't done anything."

He lays his hand on my cheek and lifts my face to look at him. "Then what is it?"

"That's just it, I don't know." I tell him truthfully as I pull out of his arms and walk back into the living room. "Everything seems to annoy me today. I feel restless and frustrated. The report I need to read is giving me a headache. I went into the kitchen just to be able to go somewhere and usually I'd eat something ridiculously sweet and fattening to feel better, but you don't have either one, or much of anything else, in your kitchen."

"You want more food? We can send out for more." Josh suggested. "I'm sure we can get anything you want."

"That's not the point, Josh. Maybe 'I' want to go to the store...or go shopping...or just go down to the corner deli to get a sandwich, but I can't. I feel like I'm in prison and I haven't even committed a crime." I rant as I pace around the apartment. "I'm locked in the White House during the day and I'm locked in this apartment at night."

"We're just trying to keep you safe, Donna."

"I know, but nothing's happened in over a week." I point out. "No new pictures or threats or even mysterious pizza deliveries. Isn't it possible that this guy has just gone away?"

"It's always a possibility." He says with zero enthusiasm.

"But you don't think so?" 

He lets out a sigh. "No. As much as I'd like it to be the case, I don't think he's done and neither does Ron."

Well, at least he's being honest with me.

"It just feels like the whole world is going on without me." I tell him. "The agents have an epileptic fit if I even think of doing something as simple as opening the drapes."

In an act of tiny defiance, I walk to the nearest window and yank open the drapes. It's dark outside so it's not like a beam of light illuminates the room or anything, but I already feel like I can breathe a little easier, as if a small weight has been lifted from my heart.

"Donna, you really shouldn't..." Josh begins with sympathy in is eyes as he takes a step toward me.

"I mean, is it so much to ask to have my life back?" I say quietly.

He stops beside the couch and sighs heavily as he scrubs a hand over his face. For the first time that night, I look beyond my own mood to see that he looks tired too. Maybe this situation is wearing on him too. 

"No, of course it's not too much to ask," he replies. "And I'm doing all I can to give it back to you."

"I know you are, Josh." I rub my tired, gritty eyes. "I know I sound ungrateful and whiny and I swear I don't mean to, but it's just how I feel." 

Josh is quiet for a moment before he speaks in a soft voice. "You're not the only one who's feeling some cabin fever, Donna." He says without malice or accusation in his voice. "I can't go to the Hill for meetings and as much as I want to, I can't even take you out to dinner."

His words cut through me. He wants to take me to dinner. How sweet is that? Although we're still exploring this new part of our relationship, he's already thinking about taking me out to dinner. God, I really am being selfish.

"Josh..."

Before I can say more than that, I hear a weird noise, almost like a soft ping. Automatically, turning toward it, the room seems to explode into a cacophony of sound and motion that is too much for my brain to process. Pain from a variety of points in my body seems to flash through me all at once.

Next, something heavy hits me like a freight train and I feel myself falling. My head makes contact with what I dimly I realize is the floor and my vision is filled with stars and a swirling grayness. The noise in room is deafening and mixes with sounds of someone yelling and the roaring in my head until it's quite possible that I'm going to be permanently deaf. The weight pressing down on me seems to increase exponentially until it's incredibly hard to breathe.

Then I'm floating, the weight is gone and it's eerily quiet. Very slowly, the quiet is replaced with an oddly comforting whisper. It takes me a minute to figure out that what is being whispered is my name and it's gradually getting louder.

"Donna!"

Although it sounds like it's coming from a very long distance, I realize it's Josh's voice and he sounds worried so I make myself to move toward the sound of it. As I swim up through layers of black and then grey, pain begins to seep back into my body like a sickness, but at least the weight is gone and I can breathe again.

"DONNA! Wake up!" Josh yells at me.

"Don't shout." I hear myself murmur. "I can hear you."

"Open your eyes and I'll stop shouting." He says still shouting.

Typical for Josh to still be giving me orders and even more typical for me to listen, I force my eyes open and the first sight I see is his face as it swims into focus.

"Happy now?" I can't help but mutter.

"Ecstatic," he says with a little grin, but I also notice that he looks awfully worried and pale.

"Mr. Lyman, an ambulance is on its way." 

I turn my head enough to see the voice is coming from the agent that had been outside the door, I think his name is Agent Weber. He looks worried too.

"Why do we need an ambulance?" I ask, feeling like I'm missing something. "Josh, are you okay?"

Josh blinks at me in surprise. "I'm fine, Donna, but..." He visibly swallows. 

The agent answers for him. "We're going to take you to the hospital to get checked out, Miss Moss."

"Why? I'm okay." I lie. Actually I feel like I've been run over by a bus.

"Don't argue, you're going to the hospital." Josh snaps at me.

"No really, see..." I begin and determined to show him, I try sitting up. 

“No, no, lie down.” he says pressing gently on my shoulder.

The world begins to spin crazily and I immediately lie back down.

"Then again..."

"Let that be a lesson to you. Do as you’re told." Josh orders.

I close my eyes and try to force the spinning to stop. When I think it's finally subsided, I open them again.

"Well, when you ask so nicely..." I try to snark.

It's then I notice the lamp behind Josh. Or should I say what's left of the lamp that used to sit next to the couch but is now lying on the floor behind Josh. It's not just broken, it's shattered. From my place on the floor, it's a little hard to really get a good look but from what I can see, the lamp isn't the only thing that looks differently than I remember. The entire living room looks like a tornado hit it.

"What happened?" I ask.

Josh and the agent exchange looks. "It's not important right now, Donna." Josh says quietly.

"Tell me." 

Again, the agent answers before Josh can. "Miss Moss, it appears that someone fired rubber bullets into the apartment through the window."

Rubber bullets? My heart sinks and I look back at Josh. "The window where I opened the...?" I can't even get all the words out.

"Yeah," Josh says quietly. 

Then I notice there’s blood on the front of his shirt. “Josh, you're bleeding!”

Ignoring the spinning world and the protests coming from my body, I sit up and frantically press my hand against him to find out how badly he’s hurt.

He takes my hand firmly in his and uses the other one to press me back to the floor. "It's okay, Donna," he says quietly. "It's not mine."

Oh, thank God. “Are you sure?” I ask him.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

What a dumb thing for him to say. Of course I worry about him. I always...wait...wait. If the blood’s not his...

I look over at Agent Weber and besides looking a little disheveled, I don’t see any blood on him. Who the hell got hurt?

“Then whose blood is it?”

Josh looks a little green right now, sort of like the time they changed his blood pressure meds and it made him violently ill, but he tried to hide it from everyone. He swallows hard before he answers me.

“Donna, you got a little banged up. But it’s nothing to worry about.” He tries to reassure me. “It’s just got some scratches on your arm, your leg and a couple on your face.”

“It’s mine?” I whisper and he nods in confirmation.

Although it sends a wave of pain through my arm, I reach up to touch my face and my fingers come away wet and sticky with blood. Then I manage to focus on my upper arm and I see the ‘scratch’ he was talking about. No wonder my arm hurts. It’s not so much a scratch as it is a deep gash marring the area right above my elbow. 

Right about then I can literally feel my eyes start to roll up into my head.

“Donna, stay with me! Don’t you dare pass out!” Josh shouts at me.

Although I’ll be a little annoyed with him later for shouting at me again, his voice has the desired affect and it pulls me back from the brink like a bucket of cold water.

We don't have a chance to say anything else before two paramedics arrive with more secret service agents and the activity in the room goes up exponentially. Josh gets pushed into the background and I instantly miss the image of his face and the feeling of his hand holding mine. 

While they check me out, the paramedics throw a rapid fire series of questions at me that I answer as best I can. When I catch snatches of Josh talking and then yelling at someone, I strain to hear him. As long as I can hear him, he’s okay and as long as he’s okay, I can deal with anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ignoring the two secret service agents that are watching me, I pace the small waiting room just off the GW ER. 

What the hell is taking so long? Why won’t any one tell me how Donna is?

I drag a hand through my hair. God, when I saw her unconscious…and then the blood…her blood, I nearly lost it. If I live a hundred lifetimes, that’s an image I’ll be thankful to never see again.

“The paramedics said Miss Moss is going to be just fine, Mr. Lyman.” Agent Weber reminds me. “Why don’t you sit down and try to relax until the doctor gives us an update?”

Yeah, like I’m going to listen to anything these guys say right now. Despite the fact that agent Weber threw himself bodily on me and Donna when the shooting started, this is all their fault and I won’t forget that anytime soon. Continuing to pace, I just glare at him and he wisely doesn’t press the issue. 

“When is Ron Butterfield going to get here?” I demand.

“He’s working with the team back at your apartment. As soon as he has completed his preliminary investigation, he’ll come by here to debrief you and Miss Moss.”

“No one talks to her unless the doctor and I say it’s all right.” I snap. 

“Mr. Lyman, we’ll need to…”

I stop pacing and stare him down. “NO one talks to her without going through me.” I reiterate. “If Ron has a problem with that he can see me.”

Again, agent Weber doesn’t press the issue and I go back to pacing. I should probably call somebody…Leo, Toby, CJ…someone, but I really don’t want to talk about this evening’s little adventure with anyone right now. Besides, I’m sure that the secret service has already informed Leo and the President of what’s happened.

“Mr. Lyman?” A new voice says from behind me. 

I whip around to see what I assume is the doctor standing at the edge of the room. He looks young…I’m talking Doogie Howser young and for a moment I think about asking him exactly what year he actually graduated from medical school, but my need to get an update on Donna takes precedence so I get to the point.

“How’s Donna?”

“She’ll be sore for a few days, but she’s fine. All her injures are fairly minor. We stitched up the injury to her leg and her arm with no problem. One of the cuts on her face was deep enough that it had to be stitched up too, but we brought in a plastic surgeon to do that so she shouldn’t have a scar when it heals. Those wounds will have to be kept clean and the bandages changed regularly. She also has bruises over most of her torso from the projectiles and a slight concussion from her head hitting the floor. Because of the concussion, we’re going to keep her overnight for observation to make sure there are no lasting effects.” 

I didn’t absorb a lot of what he said past “she’s fine,” but I nod anyway. 

“Can I see her?”

“Yes, she’s been asking for you.”

Not giving a second thought to the agents that are surely trailing after me like ghosts, I follow the doctor back to where they’ve got Donna. Rather than using one of the curtained off areas that dominate the ER, they’ve got her in a treatment room and there are already two agents posted outside.

I can feel my blood pressure go down as soon as I see her lying on the narrow hospital gurney. Knowing that Agent Weber is going to try and follow me inside, I close the door in his face so Donna and I can have some privacy. 

I walk over and look down at her. Eyes closed, she looks peaceful enough…well, except for the scratches on her face from flying window glass and the marks that have developed on her body. Covered with a sheet and dressed in a plain hospital gown, I can’t see too much of the alabaster skin she’s always telling me about, but the marks are clearly visible along her arms and over the small area of skin on her collarbone that I can see above the fabric of her gown she’s now dressed in. From the way my own body looks and from the doctor’s description, I know that the visible marks are just the tip of the iceberg.

And I think those scratches and marks make me more angry than I’ve ever felt before. By nature, I’m not a violent person but if the guy who did this was here right now…well let’s just say, even the secret service agents outside wouldn’t be enough to protect him from me.

I take her hand in mine and in response Donna opens her eyes and looks up at me. Immediately, I see her eyes fill with tears. As happy as I am to see her baby blues, I hate to see her cry.

“Hey, what’s this? There’s no need to cry. You’re going to be fine.” I tell her. “The resident masquerading as Doogie Howser said so.” My little joke doesn’t even make her crack a smile.

“I’m so sorry, Josh. This is all my fault. I never should have opened that curtain.”

I can’t help but brush a tear off her cheek. “Donna there’s no way you could have known.”

“I could have gotten both of us killed.” 

“But you didn’t. We’re still here. That counts for something. Give yourself a break already.”

Tears still seeping from her eyes, she stares at me for a long moment and I feel like she’s trying to see through any false front I’m putting up. She’s always been good at reading me.

“Are you okay? Really okay?” she asks me. 

I shrug a little and decide to go with honesty. “I’m a little bruised just like you, but I’m fine otherwise.”

“Are you going to call, Stanley?” she asks.

Her question takes me by surprise. “I hadn’t planned to. That is, unless you want me to call him for you.” 

She’s staring at me again and it makes me want to squirm a little. “Rubber or not, there were bullets, Josh.” She points out unnecessarily. “That has to bring up some things for you.”

She’s probably right, but I haven’t even begun to process that aspect of what happened tonight. Right now, I’m just focused on the fact that she’s okay.

“This time was a little different.” I try to explain.

She frowns a bit. “Why? Because the bullets weren’t real?”

I look at her and the words are tumbling out before I really even form the thought in my head. 

“No, because I wasn’t alone, you were there.” 

“Oh, Josh…” she says tearing up again as she squeezes my hand. 

I never told her that when I was sitting on the cold cement sidewalk bleeding to death, I wasn’t really thinking of myself. All that kept running through my mind was ‘is Donna all right’ and lamenting the fact that I’d never get to tell her how I really felt. But now that things are changing between us and we’ve been treading into new waters personally, the second item is something I can remedy.

Leaning down, I softly capture her lips with mine. I don’t rush the kiss and don’t make it too demanding. I just want to show her how I feel and that what’s happening with this mess we find ourselves in doesn’t change what I feel for her. 

Bruised and battered as she is, she responds in kind. Slowly, her mouth opens for me in invitation and after nibbling lightly on her bottom lip, I carefully lay my hand on her cheek and slide my tongue into her mouth to sample the taste of her. This is a little bit farther than we’ve taken things up to this point, but it feels too good…too right to stop.

Part of my brain tries to tell me that I shouldn’t be doing this, that I should wait until things calm down for us. But given our lives and what we do we could wait a long time for that to happen and right now I’m all about appreciating life and the warm, wonderful woman I’m kissing at the moment. 

When I finally pull back, we’re both a little breathless. “I love you, Donna. And now that I know you’re okay, I’m going to be fine too.” 

Her eyes tear up again, but this time there’s a soft smile in them so I don’t mind the waterworks so much. 

“I love you too, Josh.”

Before I can say anything else, there’s a firm knock at the door and Ron Butterfield sticks his head in the door. His gaze flicks between me and Donna and I know he doesn’t miss the sight of our clasped hands.

“Josh, can I speak to you for a moment?”

With a nod, I start to pull away, but Donna keeps a surprisingly firm grip on my hand. “No, I want to hear this. It affects me too.”

Ron gives Josh a look then steps inside and after closing the door behind him, walks over to where we’re standing. 

“How are you feeling, Donna?” Ron asks her.

“Pretty terrible,” Donna replies succinctly.

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

I can appreciate Ron’s need for keeping things light for Donna, but I really want to hear what he has to say. “What did you find out?”

“Tonight, at approximately 8:30, a number of projectiles we’ve determined to be rubber bullets were fired at your apartment from a unit across the street. When the shooting started, Agent Weber entered your apartment and found that you had already gotten Donna on the floor and he in turn covered both of you.”

“That must have been the weight I felt,” Donna said. “It got kind of hard to breathe there for a minute.”

“Well, with two grown men piled on top of you, that’s understandable.” Ron tells her. “My agents stationed downstairs fired at the window of the unit across the street but it wasn't doing any good so they made their way over there and burst inside.”

“Did they catch the gunmen?” Donna asks hopefully.

I hate to take that hope out of her eyes, but because of my earlier discussions with the agents, I already know the unfortunate answer to her question.

“There was no one there, Donna,” I tell her quietly. “The apartment was empty.”

“Empty? Well, then who was firing at us?”

Ron tries to explain. “He means empty of people and furniture you’d normally expect to find in an apartment. It appears that the person or persons responsible never actually lived there. There were two windows in the unit that faced the street. In one window, a sophisticated surveillance camera had been trained on the front of Josh’s building." 

“So he was watching us coming and going this whole time?” Donna surmises with a somewhat horrified look on her face.

Ron nods. “The camera was sending out a feed so he was able to watch from another location. In the other window he’d set up a very specialized gun that was modified so it could be triggered remotely to fire repeating rounds of rubber bullets. Except for the ability to be triggered remotely, this type of gun is normally used for large scale crowd or riot control.”

"I thought rubber bullets weren’t supposed to hurt you?" Donna puts in.

I roll my shoulders and I swear that I can feel every single bruise on my body. Since she took the brunt of things, I can only imagine how sore Donna is. "Yeah someone got that wrong."

Ron tries to explain. "Actually they're designed to hurt as a way to incapacitate but still be non-lethal. Most rubber bullets, including the ones used tonight, are actually very similar to regular bullets. They have a gun powder charge just like a regular bullet but the metal projectile is smaller and is wrapped in a shell of rubber or plastic so they don’t penetrate the body as easily as standard bullets. Even being non-lethal, they do cause wounds as you discovered and there are a number of deaths recorded every year from rubber bullets used during crowd or riot control, mostly from bullets fired at too close a range or hitting someone in the head." 

"So how long do you think the gun has been set up over there?" Donna asks next.

"There's really no way to tell," Ron tells her. "It's possible he set it up about the same time as the camera."

"But if the gun has been there for a while, why didn't the agents notice it before tonight?" Donna asks next.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that too." I tell him.

"The window where he’d set up the gun was partially opened but obscured by the top of a large tree. The barrel of the gun was positioned so that is was camouflaged in some of the foliage."

"So all he did was wait until I opened the curtains and then he triggered the gun." Donna murmurs in a voice laced with guilt and regret.

Ron and I exchange a glance before he speaks in a soft, non-accusatory tone. "He would have been watching for them to be open. The curtains were heavy enough that they would have absorbed most of the rubber bullets’ momentum if they'd been closed."

"It's also the only way he'd know where we were in the apartment," Donna adds.

From the tone in her voice, I can tell she's really beating herself up over this. "Stop kicking yourself, Donna, you didn't know," I tell her again.

"Well, I won't make that mistake again," she says quietly.

Ron tries to soften it for her too. "We made some mistakes too, Donna. While we checked out Josh's building, we never considered that the assailant would do anything this elaborate or organized or we would have searched the surrounding buildings as well. But we're taking steps right now to search and verify the occupants of all those buildings so this won't happen again. We're also replacing all the street facing windows in your apartment with bulletproof glass."

"Do you find anything else in the other apartment besides the camera and the gun?" I ask.

"Not much. We're still checking but there doesn't appear to be any fingerprints or other forensic evidence. The assailant appears to know how to cover his tracks." Ron stops and his expression tells me that there's something he needs to tell us but wishes he could avoid it. "The only other thing we found was a message the perpetrator left behind."

"What did it say?" Donna asks before I can think of a way to get Ron to tell me in private in case it's something bad.

Ron's glance goes from Donna to me and back to Donna again. "A number of pictures of you two coming and going from your apartment had been enlarged and pasted on one of the walls. Beneath it was a message that read:"

'NEXT TIME THE BULLETS WON'T BE RUBBER'


	6. Countdown

“How’s Donna doing?” The President asks me.

“As well as can be expected, sir.” I reply wearily. We had quite the fight over whether or not she was coming to work today. She won, but only because I let her win; I want that to be perfectly clear. Staying home alone, with a couple agents would only make things worse for her. At least here, I can limit her work and keep a close eye on her. Plus the White House is considerably safer than my place…or anywhere else for that matter.

“I got a report from Ron. It sounded…intense.” The President pauses. “How are you doing Josh?”

“I’m more than a little spooked, sir.” I admit. 

“I can imagine.” He nods and purses his lips. “It’s been a pretty stressful time around here lately Josh, and I had an idea about that, but I wanted to run it by you first.”

“What’s that, sir?” I ask hesitantly.

“I was thinking a staff retreat.” The President announces.

“Oh, God, really?” I ask and he gives me ‘the look’. I may have crossed that line again. Shit. “What did you have in mind, sir?” 

“Camp David.” He announces and I brighten a little. Camp David could be good. It might be very nice to get out of town for a few days. “Maybe Donna would appreciate a change in scenery. She must be feeling pretty cooped up about now.”

“She is, Mr. President.” I acknowledge.

“I remember when I first got my detail. It felt like I didn’t have any privacy and I was a prisoner in my own home.” The President elaborated.

“That’s exactly how she’s feeling, sir.” 

“There’s no more helpless a feeling for a man than being unable to protect someone he cares about. Then add the personal experiences we’ve all had with gun violence…” He trails off and I do NOT like where this is going. “What I’m saying is...it’s time for you to give Stanley a call.”

“Sir, I really don’t think--”

“It’s not a request, Josh.” His voice turns to steel in a heartbeat. 

“Yes, sir.” I try to remember that he’s acting out of concern for me, but it’s hard not to just feel further manipulated. 

“Tell the troops we’re leaving at 3 on Friday for a weekend of R & R at Camp David.” He pronounces.

“Yes, sir.” I sigh and walk slowly back to my office. I stop briefly to study Donna at her desk. I sent out a blanket email that nobody was to comment on her obvious injuries or make her feel uncomfortable in any way. Word has obviously trickled through the gossip mill that she is under Federal protection and that she’s staying at my place. So far, nobody has made any kind of deal about it.

C.J. told me she’s had a few discreet inquiries, but once she mentions the words ‘ongoing Secret Service investigation’ people back off. Donna looks like she’s drunk. The pain killers she’s on have clearly affected her ability to concentrate and to focus, but she’s unlikely to hear any complaints about her job performance. Usually, she picks up on my presence immediately. Today, it takes her a good three minutes to realize I’m even there.

“Hey…” She offers me a dreamy smile. Man is she drugged up. 

“Hey.” I smile back. I crook my head in the direction of my office and hold out a hand to help her stand up without falling over.

I sit her carefully in my chair. “I wish you’d go home.”

“You don’t want me here?” Tears well up in her eyes; another byproduct of the pain meds coupled with the stress of the past 24 hours. 

“I’ll always want you here. I just think you’d be more comfortable lying down at home. You clearly aren’t feeling well.” I explain.

“I’ll be fine.” She tells me, even as she starts to tip over in my chair. 

“Can you get Stanley on the line for me?” I ask her and her eyes widen in alarm. “I’m fine. The President…requested a check in, that’s all.” She continues to look at me strangely. “He ordered a check in.”

That gets through to her. “Sure.” I gather some things in my office while she places a phone call like she’s moving through Jell-O. “He’s with a client. He’ll call you back as soon as he’s free.”

“Thanks. I have a budget file that needs to be reviewed before lunch. Would you take a look at it for me?” I ask, handing it to her without looking at her.

“Sure.” She responds and starts looking at it.

“Why don’t you take it over to C.J.’s office?” I suggest. “Her couch would be a lot more comfortable to sit on while you work.”

“I don’t want to bother C.J.” She demurs.

“C.J.!” I shout through the bullpen. 

“Josh!” Donna shouts at me.

“It’s okay.” I assure her. “CEEJAAAAY!”

“Must you behave this way? You’re the Deputy Chief of Staff in the White House.” C.J. reminds me. 

“Donna needs someplace a little more comfortable to work today. You don’t mind if she parks on your couch, right?”

“I’d love to have Donna parked on my couch.” She smiles knowingly at me. “Come with me, Donna, I’ll take you away from this crazy man for awhile.”

“But what if he--” She tries to object.

“He can screw up on his own. I’ve seen him do it.” C.J. takes her arm and leads her out of my office. I mouth ‘thanks’ to her and she nods her acknowledgement. I haven’t leaned on C.J. much in all this even though I know she and Donna have always been close and shared a special bond. The reason for that is that she has had a little too much personal experience being in this kind of position. I don’t think she’s ever gotten over Simon’s death. I don’t want to do anything to bring back her fear or grief.

I settle in to try to get some work done. Donna’s not the only one having trouble concentrating these days. My phone rings four times before I remember that Donna isn’t there to pick it up.

“Josh Lyman.” 

“Where’s Donna?” Stanley asks without saying hello.

“She’s not here.”

“No wonder you needed to talk to me so urgently.” He quips.

“You’re hysterical, Stanley, seriously.” I drawl.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call then?” 

“Presidential decree.” I admit.

“Oh; force…always a great basis for therapy.”

“Feel free to complain to my boss.” I offer.

“What’s going on, Josh?”

“What do you mean?” I decide to play with him awhile.

“I mean, why does the President feel you need to speak with me?” Stanley sighs.

“Maybe he just wanted to punish you?” I suggest.

“That’s always a possibility.” Stanley does NOT sound amused. “I have to catch a flight to New York in three hours, Josh, so if the punishment is over…”

“There might be another reason.” I admit.

“No….” He drawls. I ignore it because I did give him a hard time. I proceed to fill him in on everything that’s going on with Donna, but end with a ‘we’re doing okay, though’.

“All right then. Thanks for the update.” Stanley nearly hangs up on me!

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”

“Why? You said you’re both doing okay.”

“But I’m not a mental health professional. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re wrong. You were shot at; even worse, in your estimation, so was Donna.” Stanley notes. “But as long as you believe you’re okay, there’s really nothing I can do to help.”

Shit. This is going to be a long conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh Lyman is a bright guy, which in my experience just makes my job more difficult. However, I do have an advantage in that he goes through the same steps and stages as everyone else; he’s just a little more conniving in how he goes about them. Well, maybe conniving isn’t the right word. Conniving implies a nefarious purpose. Josh has no nefarious purpose. He’s just practicing avoidance. 

There is no way most people could go through what he and Donna just went through without dealing with psychological repercussions. Now you add the fact that Josh was already the victim of a traumatic shooting and suffered from significant PTSD symptoms before AND the fact that this time Donna was involved and you have yourself a ballgame. 

I don’t have the luxury of time right now that I did that Christmas Eve. We’re going to have to delve deeper into this later. In the meantime, I’m going to get the Secret Service report so I know firsthand how much of a snow job Josh is giving me right now. I can take another 30 minutes now, tops, before I have to leave to catch my flight. But I’m under no illusion that this time there will be a simple fix in one session. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry, what was that? Oh, yes, Toby, you are correct. I AM the superior athlete.” I get right in his face. I may not be able to get in the President’s face here on the basketball court, but Toby is fair game and I have a little frustration to work off. There’ve been no new developments in the case and I don’t understand how that can be. Are they just waiting for the next…whatever to happen?

“Bite me.” Toby tosses back and takes the ball out. He may have the President, and not inconsequentially the Secret Service guys on his side, but I’ve got Charlie. 

“That was a stunningly witty comeback there, Tobus. Are you sure we pay you to write for the President?” I LOVE pushing his buttons. Apparently he loves the pushing too, because I almost end up on my ass when he dribbles by me. Fortunately, Charlie is on it. There’s a bit of a scuffle and like lightening, Charlie takes the ball and passes it to me, I pass it back to him after he circumvents the President, and then he passes it off to me once again, where I toss it in…nothing but net. 

I turn to the short row of bleachers to see if Donna noticed my manly exhibition and she smiles huge for me. My chest swells a couple sizes. She’s been so happy here for the past two days. I kind of wish we didn’t have to go back tomorrow. Donna’s been relaxed and full of good humor. I didn’t even mind – too much – when she and C.J. played a practical joke on me and Toby. She was so delighted to have pulled one over on us. I haven’t heard her laugh like that in ages! 

“That’s the way we do it in the N.B.A.!” I shout and high five Charlie. Charlie just rolls his eyes at both of us. Hey, I helped! A bit.

“Mr. President.” Ron Butterfield calls to him from the sidelines. I would bet you one of my paychecks that he told Ron to interrupt him once we tied them in points. It may not be very Presidential, but it’s very Jed Bartlet.

“You need me, Ron?” The President asks innocently; a little TOO innocently if you ask me.

“Yes, sir. If I could just have a couple minutes, please?” Ron requests.

“Sure. These guys need a time out to rest up anyway.” He jerks a thumb over at us. He and Ron walk off a bit to have a private discussion.

I wander over to where Donna is sitting with C.J., Dr. Bartlet, and Will who chose to sit out and watch rather than decide between my team and Toby’s team. He’s still not quite comfortable here yet. Donna hands me a bottle of water. 

“Didja see my shot?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Oh. My. Gawd.” C.J. makes a retching noise too, but I ignore her.

“It was amazing.” Donna agrees and winks. “I really can’t believe you weren’t drafted right out of college.”

“Didn’t play in college.” I shrug.

“That would explain it then.” She shoots back and wipes my face with a towel before kissing my cheek. 

“I’m getting nauseous.” C.J. sing-songs.

“I don’t know, C.J., it’s kind of cute watching the President’s pit bull go all soft and sweet.” Dr. Bartlet notes. Now it’s my turn to feel nauseous.

“Seriously Dr. B., you just can’t go around saying stuff like that. I’ll be ruined.” I point out to her.

“Strangely, I don’t care so much about that, Joshua.” She smiles while she says it though, so I’m pretty sure she doesn’t really mean it.

I’m about to shoot back yet another witty piece of banter when Ron Butterfield taps me on the shoulder. “Could I see you and Miss Moss for a minute please?”

I look quickly over at Donna whose already pale skin goes white.

“Uh…sure.” I answer. “But do you really need both of us?”

“I do, yes.” Ron nods and I put an arm out to steady Donna who is climbing down from the bleachers and appearing a little shaken. Her bruises from four days ago are fading but their impact is still apparent from her reaction here. So much for getting a break from things here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh is in his glory. He and his team are gaining on Toby and his team. And just for fun, he’s throwing in some trash talk; just to stay sharp while he’s out of the city. For my guy? It’s all about the winning. Charlie, his ace in the hole, gets a hold of the ball and with a rapid succession of passes, Charlie to Josh, Josh to Charlie, Charlie to Josh, they score! Josh turns immediately to me to make sure I saw him. He’s grinning so big his dimples have popped out. I really don’t give a damn about the score but he does and his happiness that they’ve just tied things up makes me return the smile in full force.

The past couple days had been heavenly. Being in a secured compound has alleviated the need for agents to be on top of us all the time. We could take walks on our own and we even had a picnic dinner last night; despite Josh’s claim that he is no outdoorsman. 

When Ron Butterfield asks for a minute with the President, Josh comes directly to me. It’s like we’re magnets lately and we’re constantly drawn to one another’s sides. We banter a bit and I really want to kiss him but he’s very sweaty. I pick up his towel and give his face a brief swipe before giving him the abbreviated version of the kiss I’d really like to share with him. 

C.J. is busy pretending to be sick over our PDA but I know that inside, she’s very happy about Josh and me. She just has to do that kind of thing to keep up appearances. Dr. Bartlet even joins in with the fun. Though honestly, this is nothing compared to the teasing Josh and Toby have been taking about bears this weekend. 

C.J. and I ‘borrowed’ a bear skin rug from main lodge; this compound is huge! It was one of those rugs that had the stuffed bear head and claws attached. We used the claws to scrape on the windows of the cabin Josh and Toby are sharing and when the noise woke them and they saw the bear head staring in at them from the window…let’s just say the Secret Service responded to the screams!

Now, I can literally feel the happiness and relaxation of the past two days drain away like helium escaping a small hole in a balloon; all because Ron Butterfield is now approaching us. He has his ‘grim’ face on. Josh makes a token attempt to keep me out of whatever this is, but Ron wants to speak to both of us privately. He doesn’t waste any time once we have a little distance from the others.

“We found some residents from the building across the hall who believe they got a good look at our mystery guest. We had them work with a sketch artist and this is what they came up with. I’d like you each to look at it carefully and tell me if it rings any bells for you.” Ron pulls a hand drawn rendition of an ordinary looking man in a baseball cap. He has light brown hair and a matching mustache. He could be almost anyone.

“He doesn’t look familiar to me.” Josh decides and hands the picture to me so I can look at it more closely. He rightly assumes that since this started with me, this guy has a connection to me. “Donna?”

“There’s…something about the eyes that seems familiar.” I note and tilt my head to look at the picture from another angle. “Maybe not. Maybe I’m just imagining things. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out who this could be, who I’ve sufficiently pissed off to--” I break off when I notice my voice cracking. “The eyes remind me of someone, but I can’t place who.”

“I’m going to leave this copy with you.” Ron tells me. “You’ll contact me immediately if anyone comes to mind?”

“Of course.” I agree. Hell, at this point I’d make something up if it would help speed things along.

He gives us a nod and marches off on his way back to wherever the Secret Service holes up while the President is at Camp David. I’m not even aware that I’ve sunk to the ground until Josh joins me there and uses his hand to lift my head to make eye contact with me. Then he takes the picture out of my hands, carefully folds it and puts it in my back pocket. 

“I need to look at that.” I protest weakly.

“You already did. Just let it sit in your subconscious for awhile. If you know him, it will come to you.” He pulls me closer to him. “They’re going to find him and put him away so he never hurts you again.”

“You don’t know that.” I can hear the petulance in my voice.

“Sure, I do. I know everything, remember?” He teases and rubs my back.

“I just want this to be over.” I whine.

“No more than I do, I promise you.” He hugs me tightly to his body. “I need a shower. Want to come along and scrub my back?”

Like a switch, my body heats up at the thought of sharing a shower with Josh. He must feel the change in how my body is responding to him because he pulls me away from him just far enough to look at me closely and see my alabaster skin turn red.

“We can’t.” I give him a non-answer answer. I haven’t been hanging out with C.J. all this time for nothing. I look around like Secret Service and military personnel may jump out of the bushes and catch us in our nefarious plan to have sex at Camp David.

“I beg to differ. We really can.” He leers and kisses me until we’re lying prone on the ground with me on the lawn and Josh hovering above me. “Oh, damn, now you’re dirty too. You should really take a shower.”

“Uh-huh.” I smirk at his less than subtle approach.

“We’re the green party, Donna. We really need to model water conservation.”

“Uh-huh.” I repeat. “I really was hoping for something a little more…more, than having sex in the shower the first time.” I point out. He rears back and stares at me like I’m crazy.

“You think I was attempting to talk you into sex in the shower?”

Now it’s my turn to look affronted. “Well…yeah. You said--”

“Sex in the shower.” He mutters. “I can tell your high opinion of my ability to bring the woo, Donna.” He scoffs and sits up before extending his hand to me to help me stand up again.

“Wait just a second. You’re the one who said I should come with you while you shower and scrub your back.” I respond.

“Yes, scrub my back. I said nothing about sex. Absolutely nothing.” He maintains which is technically true.

“But you implied--” I try to counter.

“I implied that I wanted you with me while I shower, not that we’d be engaging in sex in the shower.” Now he rolls his eyes and it gets just a little overdramatic for me. “Those showers are TINY!”

“So you’re stating for the record that it was never your intention to have sex in the shower?” I try to pin him down.

“Of course not.” He takes my hand and threads it through his arm. “The shower was for foreplay. Then once we’re all hot and slippery and clean…”

“Josh.” I start laughing.

“The beds aren’t that much bigger than the shower, but there’s less chance of an activity related injury.”

Now I burst out laughing. “Activity related injury?”

“I’m not kidding, Donna, and the bathroom is the most dangerous room in the house. Would you like to explain how the injury occurred to Dr. Bartlet?” Now I pale at that thought. This man isn’t a brilliant strategist for nothing.

“Not so much. But then the bed isn’t that much more feasible. You share the cabin with Toby, remember?” I remind him.

“Donna, Donna, Donna…that’s what shades and locks are for.” He gives me a quick, hot kiss meant to persuade me and I have to admit it just about does the job…until we’re interrupted by C.J.

“Ahem….” She clears her throat loudly while she approaches us. “Josh, the President needs to see you.” He gives her a questioning glance and she shrugs. “I’m not sure but I heard the word Mexico.”

“Sonofabitch.” He mutters. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” He assures me, even though he knows that his presence isn’t as important to my safety at Camp David as it is when we’re in D.C. I nod briefly and turn to walk back to join C.J. Damn. I really need a shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk hurriedly to join the President, Leo and Toby in the President’s office. The set up here is almost as sophisticated as what we have in the White House in some ways; there’s an amazing communications system and he could run a small war from here if he needed to and yet…the TV’s all still have knobs on them. It’s like the interior decorating got stuck in the 1960’s. I keep waiting for the President to challenge me to a game of Pong.

“Josh, come in.” The President waves me through the door and indicates that I should shut it. “We’ve got a situation that calls for your expertise.”

“You need a smart ass, sir?” I joke.

“Please, for that I could call on anyone in my senior staff.” The President shoots back. “No, I need someone that Briggs and Jordan trust who can go with them to help negotiate the trade details with the Mexican delegation.”

“When?” I ask with an inexplicable feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

“Tomorrow morning.” Leo tells me. Yep, that feeling was right on.

“I can’t, sir.” I reply.

“Josh--”

“I’ve got the vote on 184 coming to the floor on Tuesday and it’s way too tight right now for me to leave.” I explain, knowing that my real reason for refusing won’t fly.

“We talked to the Speaker. He’s agreed to put the vote off for a week.” Leo informs me. Shit. “Apparently, he thinks the extra time is to his advantage.”

I jump on that immediately. “It is! If I’m out of town and he has six extra days, things are going to implode.”

“We’re talking a 36-48 hour trip, Josh. There are just a couple key issues that need to be ironed out and this is your baby. Then, you’ll have five days when you get back to wrangle our votes back in line if the Speaker is lucky enough to shake a few of them loose.” Again, it’s Leo who’s addressing my objections and the message is not lost on me; if the President is letting Leo play the heavy here, they’re both determined that I’ll be leaving tomorrow for Mexico. Leo goes for the first round and then, if necessary, the President goes in for the kill with an order, but he’s hoping to avoid that.

“Okay, I’m going to need administrative help, though.” I try another tactic. Toby looks down at the floor, which admittedly, is not a good sign.

“We’ll send someone from State to assist all three of you.” Leo offers.

“Leo, that’s ridiculous. Donna knows the details, she’s the logical one to be--”

“Donna has a death threat hanging over her head. Do you really think now is a good time to be sending her to Mexico on a commercial flight?” Leo points out. Well, damn, that was blunt.

“Why does it have to be tomorrow?” I try one last avenue of escape/procrastination. “And why do I have to physically go there? What can’t be handled by phone and faxes?”

“There’s been an…economic crisis developing there over the last few days.” The President steps in now. “Espinoza promised his people that my personal representative would be there tomorrow to handle the details of a trade/economic package with the leaders in Congress. His credibility is on the line as well as Mexico’s economy. Last time it was just economic instability…if this causes a collapse of confidence in the Government…”

“But Mr. President--” I try one last time.

“It’s got to be you and it’s got to be tomorrow.” The President ends the debate. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t an ideal time for you to go, but Donna will be in very good hands.”

“I can’t tell you what a relief that is, sir, considering she could’ve been killed while in the care of those very good hands less than a week ago; we both could have.”

“Because Donna ignored the security precautions.” Leo tells me. “I don’t think she’s likely to do that again, do you?”

“I have no clue what’s likely to happen again, do you?” I shoot back in anger and frustration. Leo and the President exchange weary expressions. “She can’t stay at my place alone while I’m gone. I can’t go back now and tell her, ‘sorry, I know I promised to stay with you until this is over, but now you’ve got to stay alone while I run off to fight an economic crisis!” Okay, I might have gotten a little loud there, but nobody is giving me an angry glare so I assume they understand where I’m coming from here.

“We’ll work something out with Donna, Josh.” Toby promises. “She won’t be alone. If you want me to talk to her about--”

“Right. Because you’re so good at interpersonal communication.” I drawl. “May I be excused, sir?” I request stiffly.

“Yes. There will be an updated briefing book at your cabin when you get there.” The President informs me. “Your flight leaves at 11:00 tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” I say with my teeth gritted and can’t help myself from slamming the door on my way out. How the hell am I going to tell Donna?


	7. Countdown

The darkness surrounds me and it feels suffocating. I can’t breathe. Does Josh know I can’t breathe? Where’s Josh? 

A room comes into view. It’s brightly lit and a little fuzzy at first, but everything clears. There’s a man over in the corner, but his back is to me. I can’t tell what he’s doing. “I think one dose ought to do it to start out with, but I’m sure we’ll have to up it later; wouldn’t want you to O.D. before I’m finished with you. Don’t get me wrong, Donna, I will eventually kill you.”

That voice… I know that voice. Whose voice is that? It’s not Josh’s. I’m tied to some kind of chaise and I struggle violently against the binds.

“I wouldn’t bother with that.” the voice laughs. “Even if you DID manage to get out of those ropes, you’d have to overpower me, which is impossible, and we’re in the middle of nowhere and you were unconscious when I brought you here. You have no idea where you are and there is no one around to hear you if you scream. Trust me; I’ve thought this through.”

“How did you get me out of Camp David?” I demand, my absolute terror clear in my voice.

“Oh Donna, you can hide anywhere you want and I’ll find you. Look how well I’ve done so far. You think the secret service can hide you? No, Donna. I’m much more clever than that.” 

He comes towards me and his face is completely obscured by some sort of scarf. All I can see are those eyes…

I shake my head hard when I see he’s got a needle. His eyes are filled with hatred. 

“Josh!” I call out.

The man laughs out loud. “Josh can’t help you now. And when he does ultimately find you, because I’ll leave him breadcrumbs Donna, the same fate that awaits you will await him. You’re going to pay…”

“JOSH!”

“Donna, wake up!”

“Josh!”

“DONNATELLA!”

My eyes fly open and my breathing is heavy. My chest heaves as I try and gain control of myself. 

“Donna, look at me.” Josh orders. His hands are firmly on my upper arms. He must have been shaking me to wake me up. My eyes dart around the cabin he shares with Toby, who is thankfully not here. I locate the bathroom and make a dive for it. Josh is right behind me.

I vomit a few times before I sit back against the tub. Josh hands me a towel, some water and then some mouthwash. When I finish rinsing my mouth, I stand up and flush the toilet. 

“What happened?” he asks softly.

“I came back here to wait for you, you know, for the shower thing…” I whisper and his lips twitch a bit. “I was tired, so I laid down on your bed and fell asleep.”

“He was in your dream.”

“I could hear his voice, but all I could see was his eyes.” I say and my eyes overflow with tears. “I was tied up and he had a needle. He said he was going to eventually kill me and if you ever came and found me, he’d kill you, too.”

“Sshh…” he says and wraps his arms around me. “Dammit.” I hear quietly against my ear. “You’re safe, Donna.”

“In my dream, he got me from here! He kidnapped me from Camp David.” 

“Your dream is just projecting your fears, baby, you’re safe. You’re surrounded by secret service, Marines, the Navy, there’s snipers here.” He says earnestly. “He CANNOT get you here. As long as you’re in the company of the President, you’re in a fortress.”

“But I’m not always with the President, Josh! Why hasn’t he killed me? Why is he terrorizing me like this? He could have used real bullets instead of rubber ones. This would have been over for him by now. Why doesn’t he just get it over with?” I collapse into his arms and he drags me back to the bed. 

“He’s not going to kill you, Donna, I promise.” He vows forcefully.

“You can’t make that promise, Josh.” I smile sadly. “You’re just saying that to make us both feel better.”

“God Dammit!” he swears and turns away. “Of all the crappy-ass times to have to go away.”

“Go away?” I ask. “Who’s going away? We’re going somewhere?”

“Not WE, me.” He sighs.

“Where?”

“Mexico.”

“Mexico? Why?”

“Because Briggs and Jordan can’t do anything on their own.”

“I didn’t know the President was going to Mexico.”

“He’s not.” Josh says after a moment. 

His words sink in and my voice is so quiet, I barely hear it myself. “You’re leaving?” 

“Donna, I did everything I could first not to go and then to get them to let you come with me. They won’t hear it.” 

“Why can’t I go?”

“You have secret service protection.” He sighs.

“So do YOU!” I shout. “It’s okay for you to fly off and get killed?!” 

“I guess they figure the threat is actually on you and I should be okay --”

“To get on a fucking commercial flight and fly to another God damn country! Yeah, that makes loads of sense!” 

See Donna. See Donna fly off the handle now. Someone please explain to me where the President and Leo’s brains are?

“I can’t stop being the Deputy Chief of Staff, Donna.”

“Yeah, I get it.” I say and plop down onto the bed with a thud.

“Donna…” he sighs.

“It’s fine, Josh.” I say tonelessly.

“It’s not fine!” he insists. I look up at him in a little bit of surprise. “It’s not fine, Donna. None of this is fine. I’d quit to stay with you, but then we lose half the detail. I don’t want to go to Mexico. What if something happens and I’m in Mexico? Donna, I’m going crazy worrying about you. It’s not fine. If something happens to you…” He runs his hand down his face and kneels in front of me. “Donna, if something happens to you, I’ll never recover. You’re everything to me and I can’t stand to see you this way.”

I bring my hand up and thread my fingers into his hair and scratch lightly. I smile and pull his head to mine for a kiss. He straightens up as far as he can on his knees and I wrap my legs around him, trapping him to me. He breaks his lips from mine to explore my neck and I’m happy to hold his head there. 

“When?” I half groan.

“What?” He asks picking up his head and looking at me.

“When do you leave?” I ask again.

“Tomorrow morning.” He cringes.

I throw a glance over his shoulder then look boldly back at him, “Lock the door.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I do as she says. I lock the door and turn around, just in time for her to push me up against it. 

Wow, that was hot!

She pulls my shirt out of my pants as she now devours my neck. Donna’s lips anywhere on me feels like a miracle. Having her in my arms is literally my dreams come true. I’m terrified that this is the last time I get to hold her. I do not have a good feeling about Mexico. I know I’m not the one with the gun and I’m not the one doing the actual protecting, but she feels safer with me and I feel better when I can see her for myself. And I’m her last line of defense. I’ll jump in front of her and danger in a heartbeat because my life means nothing unless she’s with me to share it. That much is crystal clear to me. 

My body is on fire where her fingertips touch it. This is the last time I make love to a woman for the first time. At least, that better be what’s going on here or I’m going to have to take the world’s longest shower. 

I spin us around and trap her up against the wall. I pause to drink her beauty in. Her chest is heaving from the physical exertion, her lips are swollen from my kissing her, her alabaster skin is flushed and her eyes are a deep, smoky blue. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen before in my life and I’d love nothing more than to just go ahead and push her up against the door and go for it, but we deserve better than that for our first time together, especially since we’re going to be separated for a little while. 

Instead of pushing her forward into the door, I slowly walk her backwards to the bed. Her bright blue eyes are on mine the whole way and they’re overflowing with desire. How long have I waited for her look at me like that? Everything’s been so flirty and mostly innocent up until now, but it kicked up a notch today and I’m going to explode if we don’t do something about this, like, right now.

When the back of her knees hit the bed, she sits down slowly and looks up at me. She unbuttons and then unzips my pants and leans forward and kisses my stomach. When she looks back up at me, I can see she’s unwilling to wait any longer, too. 

I lean down and capture her lips in a slow kiss then I tilt my forehead against hers. “I’m going to make love to every inch of your body, Donnatella.”


	8. Countdown

Josh's words send a wave of heat through my body. I half expected him to give me a weak argument why we should wait to take this step, but I'm glad he doesn’t because I have no intention of backing away from this now. My need for him has reached a level of desperation unlike anything I've ever felt before.

Being the verbal people we are, I want to say something sexy and clever back to him, but my brain can only process the way he’s looking at me with eyes like heated chocolate and an expression I have no description for. 

Oh, it’s not the first time he’s given me that look. More than once I caught him watching me with it when we were alone and working late or on occasion when I was wearing some especially amazing dress. It also hasn’t escaped my attention that the number of times it’s made an appearance on his face has increased dramatically since the night he kissed me for the first time. Every time I see that look, heat spreads like a fire from my heart to somewhere very deep, dark and low in my body, leaving me weak-in-the-knees. What makes it the look so much more incredible this time is that I know something is finally going to follow it. 

I suppose I should be a little nervous that we're crossing this line, but I'm not. It feels as natural as breathing. As if this was always going to happen and we are just now getting to our moment. Our ‘what’s next’ is finally here.

He straightens and unable to bear that he’s even that far away, I stand up with him and close the distance between us. His hands go to my shoulders and they caress their way down my arms until his fingers intertwine with mine. Then his mouth moves in to capture mine in a kiss I feel right down to my toes. 

I have to feel his skin under my hands so I slide them under the t-shirt he’s wearing and caress his back with my palms as he kisses me. Releasing my hands, Josh mimics my movements and his hands move under my shirt. But rather than choosing my back, his hands slide up over my belly leaving an almost electric tingling in their wake until his fingers are teasing the underside of my breast. Even through the thin barrier of my bra, the sensation is amazing. 

When his hand retreats, I let out a little groan of disappointment. But the feeling is short-lived when he bunches up the hem of my shirt and tugs it off. The air moving over my now bare skin mixed with my own anticipation raises gooseflesh along my arms and chest. 

Not wanting to get too far ahead of him in the missing clothes area, I reach over and pull his shirt off too. I love the fact that Josh has such a great chest and arms despite the fact that he sits at a desk so much of the time and I take this opportunity to appreciate it. We stand there for moment, touching each other without a trace of shyness or hesitation, just simply enjoying this new level of freedom in our relationship.

My hand moves down to the open fly of his pants and the expanding bulge barely hidden by his boxers and I caress him lightly. I’m very pleased to hear him let out a shaky breath. I’m glad that I get to him just as much as he gets to me. Dropping my hand, I slowly circle around behind him, touching and smelling the skin along his back and shoulders. 

While the sweat that covered him earlier is gone, his skin is still a bit warmer than usual and the slightly musky scent of male and recent exercise clings to him. Suddenly, I'm very glad he didn't take the shower he teased me about earlier because the smell of him is incredibly arousing and I have great hopes that some of that sweat will shortly be making a reappearance.

When I get to the nape of his neck I find that it’s still a bit damp and I can’t help but flick my tongue out to taste him. I feel a little shiver of anticipation go through him. As I expected, his skin tastes slightly salty and all Josh. I blaze a trail up to his ear and I lick and then lightly nip his earlobe with my teeth which causes him to make the most interesting sound. Something between a squeak and a moan. 

Filing that tidbit away for more examination later, I lick and kiss my way along his jaw until I'm back in front of him and we're kissing again. This kiss is more intense, more desperate than the others that came before it and I'm pretty sure we're done with the exploration portion of the program and are about to move on to more serious things.

Note to any god, karmic deity or Murphy's Law agents out there, no one better even think about interrupting us right now or there'll be hell to pay. 

Right now I’d happily tell President Bartlet to get lost if he tried to interrupt us.

When we're forced to surface for some oxygen, we're both breathing hard. Without another word, Josh's eyes lock on my face and his hands move around me to undo the clasp of my bra. Then he’s pulling it free and tossing it somewhere I could care less about because the next sensation I have is his hands on my bare breasts.

Oh...wow. 

I never give Josh enough credit for the dexterity of his hands. And I can say with utter confidence that he is a master in this area. First, he simply palms my breasts as if he's trying to learn the shape and feel of them and I arch into his touch like a cat stretching in the sun. Then he rubs his thumbs over the already stiff peaks making the most interesting amount of friction. Sensation flows into sensation as he starts to roll them between his fingers, pinching with just the right force and now I'm the one making the moaning-squeaking noise.

He must know that I'm quickly losing the ability to stand because he moves us back to the twin bed that’s so small we have every chance of falling out of it. But hey, it's the nearest soft, flat surface so I'll guess we’ll have to risk it. 

Together we sink down onto it and Josh gently eases me back so I'm lying down. The spread is slightly scratchy against my back, but I don't even give it a thought as his mouth replaces his hands on my breasts.

I repeat...oh...wow. I should have known that his hands would have nothing on the dexterity of his mouth. 

Seriously, WOW.

Straining for more, my back arches slightly pressing my breasts closer to him and he uses his tongue and his lips and his teeth to their full effect. I have a suspicion that with a little prolonged attention, Josh could give me an orgasm from simply doing what he's doing to my breasts. For that alone he should get some kind of award. 

Hmm, I can think of a number of creative ways to reward him.

I'm so caught up in the feeling of his mouth on my skin I don't realize that one of his hands had unzipped my pants until I feel his hand sliding under the waistband of my underwear.

Thank God, my Joshua is a multi-tasker of the highest order. I look down and see his hand buried in the front of my pants and I see his fingers moving beneath the thin cotton layer of my panties.

Okay, that's about the hottest thing I've ever seen.

Then his fingers are sliding over me, over the part of me that aches and throbs for him the most. The visual of what his hand is doing is nothing compared to the sensation.

Oh...my...God. 

There are no words for how good that feels. 

I feel parts of my body melting and pooling together between my legs as if they’re drawn to his hand like a magnet. Almost instinctively, I press myself more firmly against his hand and in response he presses his fingers harder on my swollen, throbbing flesh and although it doesn't seem possible, his mouth becomes more insistent on my breast.

Sensation drags me under, then I'm coming and like a mad torrent, fiery waves of pleasure rush through me. Given where we are, I'm pretty sure that the sounds I’m making are louder than is probably prudent but I SO don't care right now. I can't even remember my own name at the moment, but I manage to remember his and I say it on a choked sob as I beg him not to stop.

My body bows harshly in response to the overload of feeling and I tremble violently beneath his touch as the waves continue to wash over me in a seemingly endless procession. 

And then, with inexorable slowness, the waves begin to ebb leaving me spent, panting and limp on the bed. Eyes closed, I try to remember how to breathe and dimly I note that his hand has eased its way out of my underwear. Next I feel him tug off my pants and my underwear until I’m lying naked on the miniscule bed. Obviously and thankfully that was just the warm-up round and Josh has more plans. 

Well, just as soon as I can get some oxygen going to my brain again, he'll see that he's not the only one. 

I feel him settle on the edge of the bed next to me again and one of his hands travels back up to toy almost idly with my breast. Finally, I find the energy to force my eyes to open so I can look at him. 

He’s half sitting-lying next to me, propped up on one elbow and smiling...no, not smiling...he's smirking which bring out his dimples in full force. There are times when his smirking annoys me, but right now it makes me deliriously happy.

Not to mention, I’m helpless against the power of the dimples.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, that was fun. I’ve dreamt of making Donna come like that...of getting to SEE Donna come like that and it was still more than I imagined. She truly is amazing and now she's looking at me with eyes a color of blue I've never seen before. 

From now on I'm calling it 'satisfied Donna blue'.

With her mile long legs and mouth watering breasts, she's spread out before me like a banquet that I'm itching to sample. The still healing bruises and injuries are the only things to mar her delicate skin, and I'm going to do all I can to show her that they don't do anything to diminish her beauty. She smiles at me and something does a little dance in my chest. Then she lifts a finger to my face and traces what I assume is a dimple on my cheek. 

"You look very pleased with yourself, Joshua," she says with a little purr in her voice.

I can't help but chuckle as I lean in and place kisses across her stomach. "And here I thought you were the one feeling all the pleasure."

She trails a hand through my hair and I feel her stomach ripple as she laughs softly. "Yes, you were quite impressive."

I grin at her. "I do my best."

Her expression turns from happy and satisfied to smoky and hungry on a dime. "Well, now it's my turn," she says throatily.

For someone that looked like she had the strength of overcooked spaghetti a minute ago, Donna appears to recover quickly because she sits up and starts to push me back against the bed.

I like this take charge attitude from her. I can see that she...

Crash! Thud...

Well, I suppose that was predictable, wasn't it?

I now find myself looking up at the ceiling from my place on the floor. Damn twin bed. I'd give up all the money I have right now for a king sized bed. Donna deserves a big bed with soft sheets and down comforters.

What is it about this place? Most people think it must be something out of the pages of Architectural Digest, when really it's half a step up from the summer camp I went to as a kid. You know, first ladies are always redoing the White House why can't they do the same to Camp David and get us a decor that isn't stuck in the 1960's? 

Not to mention some damn beds that aren’t the size of postage stamps. 

Donna's face appears over the edge of the mattress, an expression of concern etched there. "God, Josh, I'm sorry. I forgot about the bed. You okay?"

"Yeah..." I tell her rubbing the twinge where my hip hit the floor. "Nothing’s hurt but my manly pride and dignity."

Now her expression turns to amusement...and if I'm not mistaken, plain old-fashioned lust. It's an interesting combination. 

"Well, I'm sorry about your dignity," she says as she pulls back the covers on the bed. "But from the bulge that’s playing peek-a-boo with the opening of your boxers, I'd say your manly pride isn't too badly damaged, so take your pants off and get up here because we're not done." 

So, Donna can be demanding in the bedroom when the moment calls for it, who knew? I can see sex with her will be fun...if it doesn't kill me first. 

"Yes, ma'am," I tease as I pull myself up off the floor and try not to feel my age when a slightly sharper twinge goes through my hip when I put my full weight on it. 

Seeing my discomfort, Donna sits up and swings her mile long legs over the side of the bed. "Why don't you come over here and let me kiss it better?" she offers with eyes gone smoky again.

Slowly, as if I'm in a trance, I close the gap between us until I'm standing in front of her. Then she hooks a finger in one of my belt loops and pulls me in even closer so I'm standing between her knees and her face is only inches from my hip. 

Hey eyes lock on mine and her expression is hungry. As for me, I'm all but holding my breath waiting to see what she's going to do. In typical Donna style, I don't have to wait long.

Sliding her hands inside the waistband of my boxers, Donna runs her hands down over my hips and pushes my pants and my boxers down in one smooth motion. To save myself from any further embarrassment that could be caused by tripping myself, I quickly step out of the remainder of my clothes and kick them to the side. 

Donna's hands grip my waist and she pulls me back to her. Gently, she leans forward and kisses the spot on my hip that I was rubbing and then begins planting kisses across my abdomen toward...greener pastures. The feeling of her lips and the rush of her breath on my skin is incredible.

It doesn't take a genius to know what she's planning and as much as I'd love to let her go ahead do it, I'm going to have to stop her. If I don't, this will be over way too soon and she was right when she said we weren't done. In my mind, we're just getting started.

Of course, before I can even open my mouth to say anything, Donna has wrapped her hand around me and I'm rendered incapable of any kind of speech. But that's nothing to what happens next. She places a light, sucking kiss on the tip of my erection then follows it up by pulling me into her mouth.

God.

I watch her blonde head begin to move and despite my earlier decision to not let her do this right now, my hand tangles in her hair almost reflexively. I can't even process how good the slick warmth of her mouth feels wrapped around me. And the thing she's doing with her tongue is...well, let’s just say it defies description. 

Right about now I'm feeling anything but old. I also don't know how I'm still standing upright. I'm not sure that I've felt this way since college...no, scratch that, not even then. Donna brings it out in me. I've never wanted anyone so much before...never been so hungry for them. 

Which is why I don't want things to end the way they’re going to end if I let her keep doing what she's doing.

"No..." I hear myself mutter as I lightly push on her shoulder and take a shaky step back. The parts of my body that were previously warm and cozy protest at the cool air that now assaults them. 

My resolve nearly crumbles as I look at her. Her lips are wet and slightly swollen from our activities and her mouth is sporting a saucy pout. It makes me want to toss her down and bury myself inside her.

"Was I doing something wrong?" she asks with a little frown.

I can't help but smile as a sit down beside her. "No. In fact, if you did it any more right, I think I would have blacked out."

"Then why did you stop me?"

“Because I don’t want the first time with you to be like that.” I grin as I brush some hair back from her face. “And I don’t recover nearly as fast as you do.”

My words seem to relieve some kind of worry she was feeling and she smiles back. “So I take it you have a better idea?” she asks me coyly.

“Oh, yes. And if we’re lucky we might even be able to avoid bodily injury this time.”

As I lean in to kiss her again, her hand moves to my hip where she traces little circles over the abused area where flesh and bone met the floor. 

“Avoiding bodily injury is good,” she murmurs just before our lips meet and our mouths turn hungry and our tongues jockey for position.

I still can’t quite believe how arousing these full-throttle kisses with Donna are. So many things with her are on a different level than with others I’ve been with. It’s kind of an apples and...well, Donna, comparison. They're just not on the same plane of existence. It goes without saying that Donna wins each and every time. 

“What do you want me to do?” she asks breathlessly when we finally break apart.

Is it any wonder I love this woman?

I lift my hand to her cheek. “Just let me make love to you.”

I know I tease her about being ‘in tune’ with me, but I have to admit, she really is. In response to my words, her gaze never leaves mine as she slides back up the small bed until the long, lithe length of her is squarely in the middle of it. Then she crooks a finger at me.

Not needing any more encouragement than that, I slowly crawl over to her. As I make my way up her body, I take the opportunity to explore her skin with my mouth and hands, paying special attention to the still healing bruises that linger on her body. She trails her hand through my hair and alternates between sighing and laughing softly when I hit a sensitive spot.

When our mouths meet again, Donna puts her arms around my shoulders and pulls me down against her. Since there really isn’t any other place I’ll fit on this bed, I settle into the cradle of her body which is warm and lax beneath me. She shifts her legs and they come up around my hips and I’m drawn even tighter against her. I can feel my body pressing against her warm, wet center and it makes me ache to be inside her.

"You sure?" I ask her quietly. "Last chance to change your mind."

"No, my last chance was the day before I met you." She says softly as her hand toys with the hair at the nape of my neck. "I don't want to change my mind. I've wanted this forever, Josh. Don't make me wait any longer."

With that, I rise up slightly and I start to slip inside her. Despite the fact that it’s a bit of a snug fit, she's already so wet and aroused that I slide deeply inside her with really no effort at all. 

“Yes, that’s it,” Donna whispers in a voice that is an aphrodisiac all by itself.

As I settle inside her, I watch her eyes flutter slightly and she lets out a sound that is part moan, part sigh, and I think it may now be my favorite sound in the world. To me, it translates as ‘finally, thank God.’ The reason I interpret it that way is because that’s how it feels to me. 

Here I thought having her hand or her mouth wrapped around me was sensational. Having her legs wrapped around me and being so completely enveloped by her is an entirely different level of feeling. Nothing has ever felt so right. The sense of connection with her is like a tangible, living thing between us and I’ve never felt it with anyone before.

That feeling is only intensified when I lean in and capture her mouth with mine. Partially to let her body get used to mine and partially because it has basically become my new favorite past time, I continue to kiss her. Then something interesting begins to happen...I feel Donna begin to squirm under me and she finally breaks the kiss.

“I need you to move, Josh,” she begs, breathing hard. Whether it’s from the kissing induced lack of oxygen or arousal or both, I don’t know. The great thing is I’m breathing exactly the same way. 

Already unable to deny her just about anything... and especially her latest request, I have no problem granting it. I brace an elbow on either side of her and slide part way out before sliding back in. As with most things, we fall into an easy, natural rhythm. Slow at first, then increasing in speed.

We give and take, feeding off of each other, our eyes never leaving each other. There’s none of the awkwardness that you can sometimes have when you’re with someone new and it occurs to me that if it’s this easy with her now, it bodes very well for all the times we’ll make love in the future. 

And there will be many I assure you. I plan to make love to her in every way possible as many times as she’ll let me.

Looking wild and golden in the late afternoon light, her hair is spread over the pillow like white fire as her body begins to writhe under me. It doesn’t take long for her sighs to turn into moans that come together to sound out my name. 

“Josh...” she pleads. “....please.”

“Tell me what you want, Donna,” I manage to grind out. 

“So good..." she gasps. "...more...harder...” 

I accommodate her willingly. To be honest, I’ve been holding myself back to make sure this is all I want it to be for her. As things ramp up and I begin thrusting into her more urgently, I can feel the tension reaching a fever pitch in her. As for my own body, it’s tightening like an over-wound clock, building toward the release every cell in my body is craving. 

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain an overly cautious voice is telling me that I’m driving into her too hard, but it feels so good and Donna is the last one who seems to want to protest. 

‘Yes...God, yes’ and my name are rolling out of her mouth like the most mesmerizing chant I’ve ever heard and her eyes are alight with an inner fire I haven’t seen before. Her fingers grip my back and her nails dig furrows into my skin but I barely notice or care. It’s only one of the myriad of sensations flooding my system that are quickly becoming overwhelming and it only serves to drive me on with some kind of primal instinct.

Her body arches beneath me and her voice is rough and raspy when she cries out my name and I feel her body clench around me as she finds her release. That’s all my body needs to know and with all the subtlety of a semi-truck being flung over a cliff, the orgasm explodes through me. With three hard thrusts my body feels like it shatters into a million pieces and I empty myself deep inside her. 

Although I’m pretty sure she’s as exhausted as I am, somehow Donna manages to hold onto me as I bury my face against her neck and collapse against her. We both lay there for a few minutes, sweaty and panting like we’ve both run the Boston Marathon.

Very shortly, it occurs to me that breathing can’t be too easy for her with my all but dead weight pinning her to the bed so I slide my arms around her and with a coordinated effort, we roll onto our sides without rolling off the bed. Gently, I brush some hair back from her damp face.

“I’m sure I don’t say this enough, Donnatella, but you are, quite simply, amazing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I smile happily at him. "Well, you were pretty amazing yourself there, Joshua."

If my heart wasn't already beating fast from making love with him, Josh's words would have done it. He's so sweet and what we just did...well, it defies description. It makes me hate that we waited so long. Although there is a case to be made for the argument that the timing wasn't right for us before now and it wouldn't have been like this if we'd tried this before now.

You know, given the way he walks and does most things, I’ve always wondered if Josh would be a bit...frantic in the bedroom. Oh, I had no doubt that he’d see to it that his partner was well satisfied because that's the kind of person he is, but living his life at it’s usual fast forward pace, I could see him wasting no time in this department too. 

But I’m here to bear witness to the fact that he’s definitely a take-his-time-and-do-it-right kind of man.

God, am I lucky or what?

Our legs tangled together, we're laying on our sides holding onto each other so one or both of us doesn't roll off the bed. Lazily, his hand is running slowly over my back as I run my fingers lightly through his damp hair. I could happily stay like this forever, but I know the world will intrude on us all too soon.

"What are you thinking about?" Josh asks me softly.

I'm thinking that I don't want him to go tomorrow, but I'm not going to tell him that. I know he doesn't want to go any more than I do, but short of him quitting, which I would never ask him to do, he doesn't have a choice. So I put it out of my mind and give him another smile.

"I'm thinking if we shove these two twin beds together, we'd have more room next time."

For a just a moment, he looks like he's not sure if he believes that's what I was thinking or not, but he seems to decide to go along with it.

"Either that or we’ll just roll over and fall through the crack between them when we make them slide apart again," he teases.

I grin at him. "I'm willing to risk it if you are."

"Maybe I could pay Toby $50 to get lost tonight," Josh says hopefully.

"I'm not sure if $50 would do it. You'll probably have to promise him a case of Jack Daniels and some new cigars," I suggest. 

"For all that, he'd probably even help me push the beds together," Josh says with a grin.

I laugh softly. "Well, I can't quite see that happening."

We both laugh for a moment, but I see the seriousness slowly creep back into his eyes and it makes my stomach jitter. "Donna, about tomorrow..."

"No..." I say flatly.

He looks surprised by my comment. "But I just want to say..."

"No..." I tell him more vehemently. 

Like I said, I don't want to think about tomorrow morning. It's going to come soon enough.

Despite my protests, he still tries to finish his thought. "It's just that..."

"Stop talking." I say laying my fingers over his lips. "The only thing I want to hear you say is my name."

"But Donna," he says in token protest as I pull my fingers away from his mouth.

"No, not like that," I tell him as I send my fingers off on a new distraction mission between our bodies.

“Donna...” he breathes out as I wrap my hand around the length of him.

“That’s better,” I tease as my hand begins to move and I feel him start to harden against my palm. "But I think you have room for improvement."

Much to my delight, my distraction technique works wonders and it doesn't take much to have him ready again. Wordlessly, we shift around until he's under me and I straddle him. This is what I want, to be here in this moment...with him.

Moving my hand between us, I guide him inside me. God, he feels so good. His hands grip my waist and I let him set the tempo as I start to rock slowly over him. 

"Oh, God, Donna..." he moans.

"Now that's how I like to hear my name..." I croon with smile as I continue to do my best to distract him.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've often found it strange that the days you want to forget last the longest, and the days that you want to last forever, go by in the blink of an eye. It like some great joke the universe likes to play on us.

Case in point, just as I suspected, tomorrow has arrived way too soon. No matter how long I wanted yesterday to last, time was against us and now I find myself walking across the tarmac at Andrews Air Force base trying not to let Josh see how worried I am.

Or how much I will miss him.

"It's just a couple days. I'll be back before you know it," Josh promises me as he gives my hand a squeeze as we walk to the plane. 

Due to the fact that Josh is going to Mexico as the President's personal representative and he's taking a small Secret Service detail with him, the President is sending Josh there on a special military transport plane. It's a small concession and it makes me feel better about his safety on the trip, not to mention the fact that it lets me see him off in person rather than leaving him at an airport security checkpoint. But I still can't shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach. The feeling that tells me something is going to happen in the next few days. 

And if something IS going to happen, I'd rather be together when it did. Of course, we don't always get what we want.

"I know," I say with more enthusiasm than I feel. 

Clearly seeing through the brave face I'm putting on, Josh drops his overnight bag at the foot of the plane's stairs and pulls me into a fierce hug.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine," he says softly in my ear. 

That's not how it feels to me, but that's not what he needs to hear so I just hug him back. 

"I know," I say again.

He pulls back to look at me. "Since you don't want to stay alone at my place while I'm gone, CJ said you could stay with her and the secret service has already cleared it. You listen to them while I'm gone and you'll be fine. When I get back we'll move back into my place."

Of course, he's not telling me anything I don't already know, but I understand it's his way of thinking things through and making sure he hasn't left anything to chance where I'm concerned.

One of the pilots appears in the plane's doorway at the top of the stairs. "Mr. Lyman, if we're going to stay on schedule, we need to go," he calls down.

Josh waves to the guy in acknowledgement. Suddenly I feel like he's slipping away from me and I can't do anything about it.

I throw my arms around him. "Come back to me, Josh."

His arms are like steel bands as he hugs me back. "I will, Donna...I swear I will."

I inhale his scent as if it will keep a piece of him with me while he's gone. "I love you."

Pulling back, he lays his hand on my cheek. "I love you too."

He leans in and kisses me hard and fast, leaving me weak in the knees. Then without another word, he snatches up his bag, runs up the stairs to the plane and disappears inside.


	9. Countdown

“We can have a girls’ night.” I offer and Donna smiles back, but her heart isn’t in it. “We’ll watch some chick flicks, drink wine, and do each other’s nails.”

“Sounds great.” She replies.

I put an arm around her while she empties her travel bag in my guest room. “He’ll be back in no time.”

“I know.” She nods again. “It’s just that he’s only been gone a few hours and I can’t believe how much I miss him.”

“Wait until he gets out of his meetings and starts calling you every five minutes. You’re going to wish he didn’t have his phone.” I predict but we both know it’s not true.

“Ms. Cregg, we need you to reset the code for the door, please?” One of the Secret Service agents asks and I startle at his appearance. 

“Sure.” I agree and smile grimly. I have a security code to get into hallway from the elevator and the Secret Service wants me to change it now that Donna is staying with me for a few days. Please don’t get me wrong; I adore Donna and I wouldn’t want her to be alone right now, but the presence of all these USSS Agents is making me jumpy…not to mention bringing up memories of another detail that I’d rather forget.

“I told Josh this was a bad idea.” Donna shakes her head.

“What are you talking about?” 

“The last thing YOU need is Secret Service agents swarming all over your place.”

“Donna…”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t bringing up everything you’d wish you never had to think about again.” Donna notes. She is very perceptive, our Donna.

“Look, I won’t lie to you. It’s a little uncomfortable, for very personal reasons, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s nowhere else I’d let you go right now.” I tell her honestly. “Who would understand what you’re going through better than I would? And the Secret Service has already set up camp here before so they know the lay of the land.”

“Right.” She rolls her eyes at me. “That’s not exactly a plus here, CJ.”

“I’m choosing to see it that way. And so should you.” 

“I just want to be home.” She admits.

“Home or…home with Josh?” I tease.

“Home is Josh.” She answers sincerely and I find my eyes misting up. As happy as I am that my friends have found this with each other, these are rotten circumstances that led up to it. I want her home with Josh too; and not just for personal reasons.

Her cell phone rings to the tune of “Wild Thing” and she’s off like a rocket to answer it. “Josh?” She listens for a second and then beams when she hears his voice. After another moment she chuckles. “Then maybe you should leave the spicy food alone while you’re there, you idiot.” She rolls her eyes at me and we share a smile before I leave her to have a private conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m serious. I think I’m going to throw up.” Josh complains. “My chest hurts with this horrible burning sensation…”

“Would that be heartburn?” I ask drolly.

“Nah, if it was heartburn, the beer I washed it all down with would have taken care of it.” He laughs. 

“How many beers did you have?”

“Not enough to forget what it feels like when you…” 

“JOSH!” I interrupt him. “You’re on a cell phone.”

“A Government cell phone, Donnatella. It’s encrypted and everything!” 

“That doesn’t mean the Government isn’t listening in on us.”

“Perverts.” He grumbles and makes me laugh again. “I miss you so much. How can it be possible to miss someone this much after only a few hours?” 

“It’s just the sex.” I tease ignoring my own advice about the cell phone.

“No, it isn’t.” Josh argues. “It doesn’t help, but it’s not just about that…my missing you, I mean.”

“I know.” 

“I should never have agreed to this trip.”

“You didn’t have a choice, Josh.” I remind him.

“I could have quit.” He’s pouting now. I can hear it in his voice. 

“That would make a lot of sense.” I say sarcastically and decide he’s had too much beer to get out of this maudlin mood on his own. “Let’s talk about what were going to do when you get back.”

“I would…but you said I couldn’t say that stuff on the cell phone.”

“CJ and I are going to have a girls’ night.” I announce, trying to change the subject. 

“You’re not going out?!” He nearly yelps.

“I think that might be objected to by one or more people on my detail.” I sigh. “We’re going to watch movies and drink wine…and talk about men.” 

“Be kind, Donna, I have to work with her too, you know.” 

“Don’t worry, she’ll be suitably impressed when I’m done talking.”

“That really doesn’t do a lot to reassure me.”

“I can live with that.”

“Hold on a second.” Josh requests. “Donna, I have to go. I’ll call you again when I can, okay?” 

“Yeah…sure. Everything’s okay?”

“We’re fine.” He hastens to add. “There’s just one secure phone and…”

“You have to share.”

“I hate sharing.”

“I know.” I chuckle. “Hurry up and get your work done so you can get back here.”

“As fast as I can, I promise.” There’s a slight pause. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Josh. Good night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What have you got for me, Ron?”

“Good morning, Mr. President.” He greets me. I’m thankful that small talk isn’t Ron Butterfield’s thing. I just want the straight scoop this morning. My Deputy Chief of Staff, although working his ass off in Mexico, is barely speaking to me and honestly? I can hardly blame him. If it were Abby or one of my girls…

“Please tell me an arrest is imminent.” I beg. Yes, I’m the leader of the free world, but I’m not above begging under the right circumstances.

“That I can’t do, Mr. President.” He tells me gloomily. “We’ve run into some snags.”

“After all this time, I would think you must have run into several.” I snap and immediately regret it. Ron and his team are top notch. I know that. I’m just frustrated.

“Mr. President, if you’d prefer someone else to run this investigation…” He offers and I feel like an ass.

“No, that’s not it at all.” I explain. “I just don’t like to think that it’s this difficult for anyone to elude the United States Secret Service.”

“Neither do I, Mr. President.” He admits. “But it happens; more often than we like to admit.”

“What have you got?” I ask again and motion for him to sit next to me and review the latest report.

“We’re having trouble tracking down a few leads; a couple personal and a few professional that we think might be behind the threats on Ms. Moss.” He opens a file folder. “These personal connections are a little more nebulous, but in my experience it’s the personal connections that instill this kind of vitriol. In both cases, we’ve been unable to get a positive location on them, though you’ll note in subject B’s case, his last known location was in Europe and he’s made no attempt to re-enter the country so…”

“What about the doctor in Wisconsin?” I ask. Doctors are always a suspect class if you ask me.

“He’s noted in the addendum to the report, Mr. President; subject G on the last page. We maintained surveillance on him for some time because of the multiple ties to Ms. Moss, but the team feels he has neither the skills nor the resources to be involved in this. He’s not…doing very well in Wisconsin, sir.”

“These professional leads are troubling.” I say looking at the list. “A senior staffer to the Vice President? When did he get added to the list of possibles?”

“When we intercepted some troubling emails that included Ms. Moss’ name in them.” Ron tells me. I don’t want to know...Yes, I do.

“Explicit or implicit?” 

“Explicit in regards to Ms. Moss…Implicit in regards to you.” Ron reports and gives me a look. “It’s the only reason he’s still employed here; for the moment.”

“I was right. I didn’t want to know that.” I shake my head. “I’m not very popular in the VP’s office, Ron.”

“So I gathered, sir. But until unpopular crosses over into something else…”

“Right, right.” I nod, but I make a mental note to address this ‘unrest’ in the VP’s office with Leo. 

“Currently, with Ms. Moss residing with Ms. Cregg, things have been very quiet and we haven’t received any new communications from the individual threatening Ms. Moss.” Ron paused. “May I ask sir, when are you expecting the Deputy Chief of Staff to return?”

“It had better be soon or he may not be my Deputy Chief of Staff much longer.” I admit. “Ron, he’s either going to mutiny or bash in the skulls of the Mexican President and his Minister of Finance if he isn’t back in the same room with Donna in the next 48 hours.”

“Then I’d bring him back soon, Mr. President.”

“We’re working on it, Ron, we’re working on it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t sound okay. What’s wrong? Has something happened over there?”

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” She tells me but she still doesn’t sound right.

“You’re lying to me. What’s wrong?” I demand.

“Well…you’re not here, but other than that…” Okay, that was very sweet, but her voice still sounds off to me.

“You’re sure nothing else is wrong?”

“I’m just having trouble sleeping.” She admits. “So I’m a little tired.”

“Take a sleeping pill.” 

“No.”

“Donna…”

“I don’t want to be zonked out like that? What if I have to leave in a hurry?” Damn, she’s too scared to go to sleep.

“Nightmares?” I ask quietly.

“How do you KNOW that?”

“I’m tuned to you too. And I have a little experience with nightmares and what they do to you.” I explain. “Hopefully, when I get home tomorrow night, you’ll be able to sleep like a baby in my arms again.”

“Sleeping in your arms would certainly help, but…Wait! Did you say when you get home ‘tomorrow night’?” She repeats.

“I did. We’re going to finish up with the last of our meetings and we’ll be on our plane heading home by dinner.”

“Oh, Josh!” It sounds like she’s crying. God, I wish I could hold her right now. “That’s... that’s just wonderful. The Mexican Government isn’t going to collapse again because you’re rushing back here?”

“No. The President is going to have to meet with Espinoza to finalize everything, but it’s a done deal…or at least I hope it will be by 4 or so tomorrow.” 

“Wait.” She tells me and I hear some strange noises on the other end. “If you leave at 4…you won’t get back until…”

“Are you on the computer over there? You know we flew military down here, right? The airline schedule isn’t going to give you the information you’re looking for.”

“With the travel time and the time changes you won’t be back until the next morning sometime. If you leave by 4 pm, the earliest you’ll be here is around 7 am” Now she sounds bummed again.

“Then take the morning off and we’ll meet at the apartment.”

“Sure…I’ll just take the morning off when you’re due to arrive home. That won’t look bad or anything.” See it sounds like she’s agreeing with me but I can tell she’s being sarcastic.

“I don’t care how it looks.” I whine. “I want to see you…kiss you…touch you…”

“Josh…cell phone.” She tells me again. It seems like half the time we’ve been able to talk during this trip is spent with her telling me not to say certain things.

“CUT IT OUT!” I’ve had it. I’ve had it with all of this; Presidential orders, stubborn member of the Mexican Government, threats against Donna, and being separated from Donna. I can’t take it anymore. “Look. I’ve done everything I can here as fast as I can here. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be on my way home to you. We just need to hold on for a few more hours, okay?”

“Right.” She agrees reluctantly. “It will be fine. I’ll just get through work tomorrow, do something fun with CJ tomorrow night to help pass the time and when I wake up the next morning, you’ll be back here.” 

“Right.” I agree and I wish, once again, that I could shake this uneasy feeling I have to rush back to D.C. Right. This. Minute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you hungry for, for dinner?” CJ asks me. 

“I don’t care.” I shrug. Truth is I’m not very hungry. My stomach has been upset all day. I just want Josh home; safe and sound and where I can see him…and touch him…and kiss him...Okay, I need to stop that or it’s going to be a long night.

“I thought I could order something now and then it will be there by the time we get home.”

“I’m really not that hungry, Ceej, and I have a dozen things left to do here before I’m ready to leave. With Josh coming back tomorrow…”

Her face falls and she drops her bag. “Okaaaaaay. I’ll just go back to my office and, you know, work. You come get me when you’re ready.”

“You don’t have to wait for me.” I protest. She was in at 4:30 this morning covering a dust up that happened overnight…Don’t worry, it had nothing to do with Josh. “You must be exhausted. Go home already.”

“I don’t want to leave you here.” She shook her head. “I’ll just crash on my couch awhile.”

“CJ, you’re being ridiculous.” I tell her. “You’re not leaving me here alone. I have four close friends who won’t let me leave the bullpen by myself let alone the building.” Ron Butterfield stopped by. I’ve stopped looking forward to his visits. In the beginning of all this, each time I saw him coming towards me I was sure he was coming to tell me that they’d arrested the creep who’s threatening us. Now, I realize he only comes to find me with bad news. Anyway, the last time he stopped by, it was to tell me they were widening the net again, and two people they were looking at had access to the White House, so my new ‘friends’ were going to be on top of me in the building too from now on. Joy.

“I know you’re not alone, but…” CJ rolls her eyes.

“CJ, just go home, for God’s sake! I’ll get there as soon as I can.” I nearly explode. I know it’s not fair to take my frustration on her, but these past few days have felt stifling. It’s like she’s afraid to leave me alone for a second.

“I can’t!” she shouts back. 

“Why the hell not?”

“I promised Josh, okay?” Her eyes get wide when she realizes what she just let slip. I’m sure if she wasn’t so damned tired she never would have let that out. 

“CJ…” I sigh. “Please go home. I’ll just finish up the things I can’t bring home with me and I’ll pack up the rest and be right behind you.”

“But Donna, I promised him…in blood.” She lied. At least I hope she lied.

“Order some Chinese, and I’ll be -- we’ll be right behind you.” I indicate my agents stationed around the office.

“Fine.” CJ capitulates. See? I told you she was exhausted. “But I’m ordering it right now, and if you have a hope in hell of getting an egg roll…” That makes me chuckle.

“Right behind you.” I cross my heart and watch her walk out for a few seconds. I really wish Josh hadn’t made her promise to stick with me. Just having the USSS around has made her jumpy enough without the added responsibility of…Well, I can address that issue with Josh when I see him tomorrow. And if I don’t want to be here, still working, when he arrives, I need to get moving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is really good, Josh.” President Bartlet tells me while I board the plane.

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Seriously. I didn’t know you could do this kind of quality work this fast. From now on, I know just what to dangle in front of you to get your productivity up.” He jokes; at least he better be joking.

“That’s not even remotely funny, sir.”

“Sure it is.” His voice booms through the cell phone. “Are you on the plane, yet?”

“Just boarding now, sir.”

“Great. Listen, you really went above and beyond on this one and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

“I do, Mr. President. I’m just glad we were able to come to an agreeable resolution before the time expired on the current agreement.”

“I don’t think anyone else here could have pulled his off, Josh; nobody.” The President reiterates. Did I mention the President can be very long winded sometimes…a lot of times?

“That’s very kind, sir, but if you don’t mind, I’d really like to give Donna a quick call before we take off to let her know I’m on my way.”

“Of course, of course.” He answers. “And when you talk to her, tell her the President of the United States ordered you both to take the day off tomorrow…we’ll consider it a reward for the hard work you’ve both been putting in the last few days. I’m guessing you’ll need to get Donna moved back home, right?” My smile which had been growing bit by bit throughout his little monologue there just busted out into a full bloomed, wicked grin.

“Yes, sir, that sounds about right. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. We BOTH will; thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Good work, Joshua!” He says enthusiastically before he disconnects the line and I waste no time dialing Donna’s cell. We’re taking off a little later than we planned, it’s nearly 5, but that’s not so bad on a Government schedule. I swear softly when I get her voicemail. She’s supposed to keep it on her the whole time I’m gone! Nonetheless, I leave a message.

“Donna? What the hell are you doing away from your cell? We had a deal about this and…Never mind. I’m on my way home. We’ll be wheels up in a couple minutes so start the countdown until I get to see you again. By the precise calculations of my military pilot, he estimates that I will be back in D.C. by 9 am your time. And when I get there? We will be taking the day off; by Presidential order. So don’t set the alarm, I’ll wake you up personally when I get there…” I look around to see that nobody is paying attention to me. “I love you, and I plan on proving it in approximately 9 hours and 47 minutes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Leo, there’s someone from the Secret…”

“Mr. McGarry.” A young man in his early thirties, with a trademark earpiece in his ear bursts past Margaret, panting for breath. This cannot be good. “There’s been an incident. We have one agent down and two others wounded; the target has been taken.”

“What?!” I growl.

“Ms. Moss…she’s been taken.” He repeats and now I stand up ready to…I don’t know what; do something, I guess.

“Where? How long ago?” I demand just as the President enters from the Oval.

“A few minutes ago.” The agent reports, “They were on their way to Ms. Cregg’s and were ambushed; somebody crashed into their vehicle and when the agents moved to get Ms. Moss out of it, one agent was killed, two others were wounded, and Ms. Moss was taken hostage. I need to get back, but Agent Butterfield wanted you informed right away.”

“I’ll want to hear from Agent Butterfield myself.” The President tells him before turning to me. “We’re going to need to call Josh.”

“Let’s wait until we know something, Mr. President.”

“We know Donna has been taken, Leo!”

“And that’s all we know.” I insist. “Josh is in an airplane where he is getting no information and would be powerless to do anything even if he had some. For all we know, we get a call a couple minutes from now telling us they’ve got Donna and she’s okay and then this is all for nothing.”

“You really think that’s what’s going to happen?” He asks me grimly.

“We simply don’t know.” I hedge.

“I gave him my word that Donna would be safe while he was gone, Leo. And if I have to call her parents…” he trails off and lets the threat lie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Lyman?” One of the officers on board shakes me awake. I look at my watch and see we’ve only been in the air for about an hour. 

“Yeah?” 

He turns on a cabin light. This is a far cry from traveling on Air Force One. In fact, flying coach on Delta might be…Why is this guy waking me up only an hour into the flight? It can’t be for the food and beverage service.

“What’s wrong? Do I need a parachute?” We should still be in Mexican airspace so it’s not beyond the realm of possibility…

“No, sir. There’s a call being patched through to you up front.”

“A call?” My heart starts to beat a little faster. People don’t call people on a military aircraft to share good news. “What call? A call from where?”

“It’s being routed from a cell phone number…” He starts to read the number off, but four digits in I know it belongs to Donna. Maybe the President felt bad we missed each other earlier and arranged for the call.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the caller. Where can I pick it up?”

“Follow me, sir.”

I practically push the guy to move faster until we reach the cockpit and I’m handed a pair of headphones with a mic attached to them. “The caller is already on line, Mr. Lyman.”

“Thanks!” I slip the headphones on. “Donna?”

“You need to turn this on here, sir.” The guy flips a switch and I try again.

“Donna…? Donna, can you hear me?” There’s a little static and then I hear a voice, but it isn’t Donna.

“I’m sorry, Josh, Donna can’t come to the phone right now. Would you like me to give her a message?”

My blood runs cold and I give a panicked look at the other men in the cockpit with me.

“Who the hell is this?”

“I’m the one who’s going to decide whether or not you ever get to see Donna alive again.”

“What do you want?” There seems to be a deal to be made here and if there’s one thing I know is how to make a deal. “I’ve got access to money. Just tell me how much and where.” My words and physical tension must register with my fellow passengers because two heads swivel my way and I pull one of their pads of paper away from them to scribble ‘Secret Service – Now!’ and pass it back to him. His eyes go wide and he gets on another set of headphones.

“I’m not interested in your money, Lyman.”

“What are you interested in?” 

“I want you. You come to me and we’ll discuss letting the precious Donnatella go.”

“As you’re probably aware, I’m on an airplane right now, so I’m not really in a position to meet you anywhere at the moment.” I drawl.

“I’ll give you a little time; ten hours. Set that crappy watch of yours ‘cause you’re not getting any more time than that. I’ll contact you again soon. Make sure I can get through to you there from another line.” There’s a click and then silence.

“Wait! I want to talk to Donna. Put Donna on the phone!” Nothing. The officer turns back to me and plugs my headphones into another jack. 

“You’re connected to the Secret Service, Mr. Lyman.” He reports.

“I need to talk to Ron Butterfield.” I demand.

“I’m sorry, sir, he’s not…”

“DON’T tell me he’s not available. This is Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff to the President of the United States. Get him on the phone…NOW!”

“Yes, sir.” I think I might’ve scared the guy on the other end, but I don’t really care. Then it occurs to me that maybe it’s a trick of some kind. Maybe this nut job doesn’t have her at all and he’s just trying to lure me into something as soon as I land. Maybe…

“Josh?” Ron’s voice finally comes on.

“Just tell me one thing; do you have Donna?” I demand


	10. Countdown

~Two Hours Earlier~

“Hey, Donna.” 

I jump a bit at the voice from Josh’s office doorway. I smile slightly when I see Larry standing there.

“Larry…sorry.” I apologize with my hand to my chest.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologizes. 

“It’s not your fault.” I reply. “I’m just a little jumpy.”

“Yeah.” He says slowly and looks over his shoulder. I know that Agent Weber is just outside the door standing right next to Larry, even though I can’t see him. “I don’t really know what’s going on…” Larry starts and takes a step over the threshold. 

“Sir.” I hear Agent Weber say and his hand comes into the frame on Larry’s arm. 

“Sorry.” Larry seems a little surprised and my eyebrows rise. Wow, they won’t even let Larry in here? I wonder who’s actually been cleared to be in the same room as me. 

“I’m sorry, Larry.” I smile sadly. 

“Wow. I guess whatever it is, it’s pretty serious?”

“Yeah.” I say. 

“Well, if there’s anything I can do…” he says awkwardly. I smile in return. Margaret once told me that she thought Larry had a crush on me. I remember being surprised at the time and then wondered why if that was true, he never asked me out. “I mean, I don’t wield a weapon or anything…” I chuckle as I watch him try to dance around the chivalry. 

“I could use all the friends I can get.” 

He smiles, looks over at Agent Weber and then back at me. “Well, good night.”

“Night, Larry, thanks.” 

Larry disappears and I sit down in Josh’s chair. It smells like him and I turn my head to get closer to the scent. 

“Hey, Donna.” 

I turn my head and I’m surprised when Will Bailey walks right into Josh’s office. I sit up straight and my jaw drops.

“What?” He asks when he sees the look on my face.

“How come you get to come right in?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve worked here 12 weeks; Larry’s been here four years, five if you count the first campaign and he wasn’t allowed over the door.” 

“I don’t know.” Will shrugs. “Probably because I’m an Air Force officer that’s cleared to staff Air Force One.”

“What?”

“I’m a First Lieutenant in the Air Force.” Will repeats. “I’m in the Reserves.”

“That must explain it.” I reply and sit back. 

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” I say quickly. “I just didn’t understand. Did you need something?” 

“The President asked if you’d take a copy of the speech home with you tonight for Josh to take a look at?” He hands me a file and I nod. “Thanks. The legislative language needs some work.” I slide the file into my tote bag on the desk. 

Will claps his hands together once and looks around the office. “Well…I guess that’s it.” 

“Thanks.” 

He leaves the office and I’m left alone for a few minutes…or as alone as I can get with an armed guard outside the door. It’s frustrating, completely losing my freedom, but I do appreciate the Secret Service’s job. I’m trying to keep it all in perspective and not complain too much. On the other hand, I’m sure I’m not the most glamorous assignment. I mean, who am I? I’m nobody. Josh would flip out if he heard that…Josh HAS flipped out when he’s heard that, but look who has Secret Service protection: the entire first family, past presidents, Leo…these guys are stuck protecting an assistant? At least Josh’s detail gets someone with some kind of power and importance.

I sigh and stand up. Josh’s coat on the back of the door catches my eye. It’s the dress coat he wears over his tux in the winter. It’s probably been hanging there since Inauguration night. I walk over, pluck it off the hook and put it on. 

I feel marginally better. I feel safer when Josh is around. I don’t feel so vulnerable and exposed. 

I’m not deluded. Josh left the Secret Service report from Rosslyn out at his apartment during his recovery. I know I shouldn’t have, but I read it. Normally, I don’t read things I know I’m not allowed to, but I was so desperate to understand what happened. I was the only one not there. I just…I had to know what happened to Josh, what happened to my friends. 

Anyway, my point here is I know these guys have skills. I pick up my tote bag and shut off Josh’s light. Agent Weber leads me out of the bullpen where we pick up Agent Reed. Agent Reed is a hottie. Ginger’s got a crush on him. 

I know that these two men who are currently flanking me know many ways to kill someone. I know they will cover me bodily. 

But they’re not Josh. Unless they’re pulling me out of harm’s way, they’re not allowed to touch me. They can’t keep their arms around me while I sleep.

This sucks. I won’t say it around them, but it does. We walk to the security desk and pick up another agent, then wait under the overhang for the fourth agent to bring up the car. I pull my arms tight around me and breathe in heavily. My senses are filled with Josh. 

Now that I’m allowed to have these feelings, I realize I’m quite pathetic. I’m ridiculously lovesick here.

The car pulls up and Agent Reed opens the back door for me. The Agent from the lobby, I can’t remember his name, sits in front. Agent Reed and Agent Weber sit in the back with me. 

I get to be in the middle. In another life, I would have gone ga-ga over being surrounded by hot, armed men that, for all intents and purposes, were all mine, but not anymore.

I drop my head back against the seat with a heavy sigh. I’m not even in the mood to make small talk with these guys, so the car is silent throughout the drive. I look out the window past Agent Weber to try and see which route we’re taking tonight. I never knew there were so many different ways to get to Georgetown. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to be in Josh’s bed, but I know even if I ask to go home, they won’t take me.

I know these measures are for my safety, but I really want my freedom back.

Suddenly, there’s the squeal of tires and the car jolts. I’m thrown to the side across Agent Reed who leans down over my head and I hear gunfire! The weight of Agent Reed is suddenly gone and I’m yanked out of the back seat of the car. I scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth and there’s more gunfire. I’m thrown violently into the back of another car and I desperately lunge for the door in front of me, but there’s suddenly a prick and burn on my leg and everything goes black.

When I finally regain consciousness, however long that took, my mind is hazy. Everything is out of focus. I’m in some kind of cabin. At least, it looks that way from the inside. There’s a stone fireplace, with a fire going inside, kitchen area, living area, pine paneling on the walls and cabinets, and a few different doors. What is this place? 

There’s a man at the kitchen counter. When my brain processes what happened, I scream a blue streak. I scream louder and longer than I ever have in my life. Ever try to scream like those girls in the horror movies? I scream louder than that.

“Scream all you want, there’s no one to hear you.” 

That voice…I know that voice. I know that voice very well. 

The man turns around and my eyes widen.

“Jack!”

“Buena sera, Donnatella.” He replies.

Those eyes. Those eyes from the sketch and my dream, they’re Jack’s.

I struggle to get up, but I’m tied down. Just like my dream. 

“You’re not impressed I learned Italian?”

“Why aren’t you in Italy?”

“I came to get you.” He says sitting down. 

“What?”

“We have some unfinished business, you and I.” 

“What unfinished business?”

“Well, you, JOSH and I have unfinished business.” 

“How could Josh have anything to do with you and I?”

“How about the derailment of my career?”

I’m stunned. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“The White House, Donna! My whole Naval career had been working my way up to the White House. My whole career had been working towards national security. Then you come along and fuck it all up!”

I shake my head frantically. What the hell is he talking about? I found him dashing, I found him charming, I found him…datable…

“I was so hellbent on impressing you that I never even saw it coming. Never once for a second suspected a thing. There you were pretty, friendly, sweet. The god damn White House welcoming committee. Then there was Josh, practically throwing you at me and offering you up on a silver platter. I admit, that gave me pause. I was definitely thrown off the scent with that one. My gut feeling was that something was going on with you two. But I was in the fortress of the White House and forgot to go with my gut.”

“Nothing was going on with Josh and I.” 

“Oh, but it was. It’s so obvious. I’ll admit, you did seem interested in me, but not near as interesting as you found Josh. I was tunnel-visioned trying to impress you, wanting to be the one to really win the girl. I thought I won for sure the first time we slept together. I mean you were pretty…enthusiastic…in bed. But then again, whores aren’t typically all that picky about who they take to bed.”

He starts slowly pacing the small living room, the wood floors creaking eerily under his feet. How could this have gone so horribly wrong? How could I have spent so much time with this man and not have seen he was a lunatic? He was a gentleman!

“You spent the whooollle weekend at the Washington Inn worried about Josh.” He continues. Well, yeah, the Christmas Eve before he had put his hand through a window and he was alone that night. Plus, he had said all that stuff about honestly not trying to keep me at the White House on purpose. 

Okay, maybe I wasn’t completely THERE in mine and Jack’s relationship, but that hardly warrants THIS!

“Jack, listen to me.” I plead. “You’ll get kicked out of the Navy for this. You’ll never get back to the White House --”

He throws back his head and laughs. It’s a deep, hollow laugh. When he looks at me, his eyes seem almost vacant. My eye catches the empty bottle of scotch behind him on the counter and the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place.

This is so much worse than I originally thought.

“I’ve already been thrown out of the Navy.” He predictably informs me. “I was a Commander, Donna, remember? You don’t get to that rank over night. That was a career. A career that pretty much ended when your precious hero Josh sent me to Italy. IT-A-LY, Donna! Not a very glamorous assignment for someone in the Navy!”

He walks back to Josh’s coat and plunges his hand into the pocket, coming back out with my cell phone.

“What happened to the Secret Service agents?” I demand.

“They’re dead.” He says simply. “Tell me how to make this call Josh.” He thrusts the phone at me. Yeah, right. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“You killed four Secret Service agents?”

“Well, they might not all be dead, but they’re definitely incapacitated. I was trained by the military, Donna, you don’t think I can take the Secret Service? Who would win in a fight? The Navy or the Secret Service? Ever wonder that? Looks like the Navy. Let’s call Josh.”

“I can’t call Josh, he’s on a plane.”

“I’m not an idiot, Donna. I’ve flown military shuttles before, you can get phone calls on them and surely his precious assistant knows how to do it.”

“No.” I say simply and Jack laughs.

“You don’t think he’s going to be worried about you?” He asks. Well, worried won’t quite cover it. Frantic, terrified, out of his mind… “You don’t want to at least assure him you’re okay? You know what? Maybe you actually don’t care about him as much as I thought. Maybe you’re just a black widow, or a preying mantis. You know, you fuck your man and then turn around his bite his head off and kill him.”

He has clearly gone completely insane. What did I do to make him think this way about me? What really happened here?

“Untie my hands then and I’ll call.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to untie your hands. That’s a great idea. Not an idiot here, Donna.”

“You overpowered four Secret Service agents, you don’t think you can handle little ol’ me?” I don’t care if there’s nothing around me. Being lost in the woods in the dark is vastly preferable to being in this cabin with a clearly mentally unstable man. I mean, at this point, I really think Jack is capable of anything. I really think if I stay his captive, he is going to kill me.

“I made the mistake of being sucked in by you once, Donna, I’m not going to do it again. Tell me what to put into the phone. I’ll let you say hello.” He smirks at me and I’m not sure I believe him, but if I can get the chance to at least tell Josh it’s Jack…

I sigh and rattle off the number for the Andrews tower. Jack punches the numbers in and puts the phone to his ear. “By the way, if this doesn’t work, I’m going to slit your throat.” Jack says in a completely off-hand way.

I watch with a heavy heart as he asks to be connected with Josh. He sounds so official, and Josh is up there completely unaware that he’s about to encounter a monster. 

“I’m sorry, Josh, Donna can’t come to the phone right now. Would you like me to give her a message?” Oh God, he’s got him on the phone. “...I’m the one who’s going to decide whether or not you ever get to see Donna alive again.” I can feel the bile moving up into my throat. Suddenly, I’m finding it hard to breathe as he dangles me in front of Josh. “….I’m not interested in your money, Lyman…I want you. You come to me and we’ll discuss letting the precious Donnatella go…I’ll give you a little time; ten hours. Set that crappy watch of yours ‘cause you’re not getting any more time than that. I’ll contact you again soon. Make sure I can get through to you there from another line.” Ten hours! He’s flying from Mexico! He snaps the phone shut and looks victoriously at me.

“You SAID I could talk to him!”

“I lied.” He shrugs. “You of all people should recognize a lie, Donna.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten hours, my ass. The secret service has Donna’s location when I land and Ron Butterfield is waiting for me on the airstrip. “She’s at a farm in Virginia. The team is out there already waiting to move in.”

“WAITING!? What the hell are they waiting for, Ron! Tell them to move in!” I shout.

“This guy’s waiting for you, Josh.” Ron shakes his head in return. “If he doesn’t get to at least see you and THINK you’re going to meet with him, he might kill her on the spot.”

“Why does he need me specifically? Have we heard anything from him? Is it something he wants from the President?”

“We don’t know who he is yet, Josh. We were just able to trace the cell phone call. We don’t know who he is or what he wants or what connection he has to either of you.”

No, of course not, that would be the efficient course! The ride out to Virginia feels like hours, hours I don’t have. Hours Donna doesn’t have. 

Finally, we slow down on the side of the road and I see we’ve come to a dirt road. The Suburban slowly turns down it then Ron presses a finger to his ear and looks over at the driver. “Go.” He says and the driver tears off down the road pell mell.

“What’s going on?” I demand.

“They’ve moved in.” Ron says calmly. “They’re taking the house.” 

My heart rate speeds up, and I desperately try to see what’s ahead on the road, but all I see is blackness, until finally a little cabin comes into view. There are people moving everywhere and we hop out of the Suburban and I follow Ron up the stairs and through the front door. I can scarcely make out the shadow of a man in the corner who darts out the back door and every single agent runs after him. 

My eyes are drawn to the middle of the floor where Donna is laying unconscious. There’s blood everywhere. “Donna!” I scream. Where did everybody go? I pull her into my arms and onto my lap. Her blood is all over me. “Donna! Wake up!” It looks like she’s been stabbed several times. I turn her head to face me, and I immediately notice there’s no pulse in her neck and she’s not breathing.

God no!

“GOD DAMMIT DONNA! Open your eyes!” 

“She’s dead, Josh.” 

I look up and my father’s standing there, looking down at me and Donna with a sad smile on his face. I shake my head up at him. I refuse to believe it. 

“She is. She’s here with me.” He says again. “She’s a wonderful girl. I’m glad you got to know her while she was there. I’ll take good care of her for you.” 

“Dad, you have to send her back.” I demand.

“I can’t do that, Josh.” He says. “It’s too late. You’re too late. He gave you two hours.”

“No. He gave me ten.” 

“Well, I guess he lied.” My father points across the room. Up on the fireplace mantle is my digital vote clock reading zero hours. 

I let out an anguished sob and look down at Donna. The blood is gone and there are needles and vials everywhere. 

“Donna!” I shout. God, Donna, don’t leave me.

“It’s too late, Josh.” Comes the sinister echo of a voice. 

“That’s him, Josh.” My father says. “You should get out of here. Leave Donna with me. I’ll take care of her. She’s already left you, Josh. Go!”

I shake my head frantically and hug her lifeless body to me. No, I’ll just wait for the psychopath to come back, thank you, very much. If Donna isn’t here anymore, then I don’t want to be here either. There are certain people I can live without and she’s not one of them. 

The hot tears stream down my face and I lean down and kiss her forehead. It still feels warm against my lips. “Just take me with you.” I whisper. 

“Mr. Lyman!” I can hear my name from outside the cabin. Ron must be looking for me. I’m staying right where I am.

“MR. LYMAN!”

My eyes jolt open. There’s a young airman standing over me. He says nothing about my erratic breathing and the fact that I’m sweating. 

“We’ve landed, sir.” He says and then walks away.

I thought the nightmare started when Ron and Leo first came to my office weeks ago.

I was wrong.


	11. Countdown

A myriad of emotions run through me as I watch Jack sitting at the small kitchen table typing away on his laptop as if it was a routine day like any other. Anger at him for not letting me talk to Josh and anger at myself for not realizing he was behind this all along. Fear over what he might do to Josh. Revulsion over the fact that I ever let Jack touch me. And most of all, bewilderment. 

How could I not know he was capable of this? I mean I slept with the guy, you'd think I'd know if he was some kind of lunatic. I guess my finely honed ability to pick the biggest gomer in the room is coming back to haunt me...again.

Still struggling against the rope he's got me tied down with, I try to clear my head of the fogginess that still hangs over me from whatever he drugged me with.

Come on, Donna, think. Use your head. There has to be a way to get through to him. Maybe there's a deal to be made. I'll do anything if it means sparing Josh this nightmare. I silently ask Josh to forgive me for what I'm about to do and I steel myself for the words that are about to come out of my mouth. 

"Jack?"

"Hmmm?" he mutters not looking up from the computer.

"You don't need, Josh, you know," I say in my best sultry tone.

Now he does look up and the look he gives me is almost genial as he leans back in the chair. "Oh? And why's that?"

"This is between you and me. Why involve him at all?" I ask him quietly. "We could go away some place where they couldn't find us. Just you and me." 

He's listening to me intently and for a moment a spark of hope ignites in me that maybe I'm getting through to him. That is until he starts laughing like I've just told the funniest joke ever in recorded history.

"Wow, you must think I'm either really stupid or really crazy."

Right now I'm leaning toward the second choice, but I wisely keep that to myself. 

"No, I don't think that," I lie. "I'm just saying you don't need Josh. I'll do whatever you want. Just leave him out of this."

"Well, well, isn't that noble?" he says with a chuckle. "Trying to throw yourself at me to save your 'man.' You know, if you'd shown me this kind of dedication when we were going out, maybe this whole ugly business could have been avoided."

He gets up and walks toward me with a look in his eye that sends a new trickle of fear up my spine. Without preamble, he climbs on top of me, straddling me on the couch. Even the layers of clothes between us aren't enough to keep me from immediately wanting a shower. With his added weight and my hands tied under me like they are, my position borders on painful, which I'm sure is what he intended. But I force myself not to wince. 

"Maybe I should let you make it up to me now," he says as he toys with the buttons of my blouse. "Is that what you want, Donna? Would you let me fuck you over and over again if it saved your precious boss? Would you beg me for it? I'd like it if you begged. Lord knows you made me beg for your scraps enough times when we were together."

The bile rises in my throat. "I..." I try to force the words out. "I...yes..."

"Yes, what?" he demands.

"If it would save him..."

"I guess that will depend on how well you beg."

"Please, Jack, don't hurt him, I'll do anything," I plead. It's all I can do not to start crying. Somehow I think he'd like it more if I cried, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. "Do anything you want to me, I won't fight you, but please leave him alone."

He nods and begins to unbutton my blouse. "Now beg me for the rest of it."

I stare up at him helplessly. My stomach is threatening to revolt and my heart is beating so hard I think it's going to explode from my chest. 

"Jack..." I plead helplessly for a shred of mercy. 

"BEG ME!" he snaps. 

"Please..." I say in a small voice. 

Angrily, he grabs both sides of my blouse and yanks popping the remaining buttons and sending them flying. From the sound of it, he also tears some of the fabric along the way.

"Come on, Donna, you can beg better than that!" he says with an evil grin.

I feel disjointed and when I hear my own voice, it feels like I'm hearing it from outside my own body, almost as if I've slipped outside myself. "Please have sex with me, Jack."

With a gleam in his eye, he leans down and I can smell scotch on his breath. It makes my stomach roll greasily again, and if he kisses me, I’m not sure how I’m going to get through it without throwing up. His mouth is hovering over mine when he whispers to me.

"I have to say, that was just about the worst begging I think I’ve ever heard,” he says malevolently. “And for the record, I don't take Josh Lyman's sloppy seconds...not any more."

He sits up and slaps his hands lightly...almost playfully against my cheeks and I have a pretty good idea what it feels like to be the mouse when it’s toyed with by the cat right before it gets eaten. Clearly, Jack is not just crazy, he’s what my uncle, in his colorful way, used to call ‘bat shit’ crazy.

“But I've got to hand it to you, Donna. You really ARE quite the little whore, aren't you?" He grins. “You’ll give it up for anyone won’t you? I wonder what your precious Josh would think about you begging me for sex? When he joins us, I may just have tell him. The look on his face should be priceless.”

With a laugh, he shoves himself off of me and stalks across the room to the kitchen counter. Flinging open a cupboard door, he pulls out a fresh bottle of scotch and pours himself a glass. 

Scared, humiliated, now all but half-dressed, and with my hands still bound, unable to do anything about it, I lay there and focus on a point on the wall. It’s the only way I can keep from bursting into tears. I feel as cheap and dirty as Jack keeps saying I am and if Josh ever knew what I just tried to do, he’d probably never speak to me again. It’s a safe bet that he’d never want to touch me again. 

Jack turns back to me with the mostly full glass still gripped in his hand. “You see, Donnatella, what you fail to realize is that Josh is an integral part of this. He's up to his neck in THIS. Being the selfish creature you are, I know you think this is all about you, but really it’s about BOTH of you and what you took from me.” 

“What did we take from you, Jack?”

“Why do you keep making me repeat myself?!” he snarls at me as he gestures wildly by swinging his hand out. Consequently, he carelessly slops about half the remaining scotch in his glass all over the floor. “You took my career and everything that went with it. It was all I had. When it was gone there was nothing left.” 

“We didn’t have anything to do with you losing your military career,” I try to defend.

He laughs, but it’s an angry, bitter sound. “Are you kidding me? You had EVERYTHING to do with it. All I had to do was tangle with you and the next thing I know you boss is getting me reassigned to the Navy’s version of Siberia!”

I have no idea why I’m arguing him when it’s clear it won’t do any good, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “Italy is hardly Siberia, Jack.”

“It is to someone high up in the Navy! I was commanding nuclear submarines...I was working in the White House for Godsakes! People treated me with respect. By the time I got to Italy I was a joke!”

“I’m sure you weren’t a joke,” I tell him honestly. “In any case, it’s still not our fault. We didn’t send you there.”

As least I don’t think we did, I amend silently. Not that I would hold it against Josh if he had. Actually I can see him putting a word in with Nancy McNally or someone at the Pentagon to make sure Jack was as far away from me as possible, especially after the thing with the quote.

“Don’t lie to me!” he explodes as he hurls the glass across the room and it slams against the wall above the couch, showering me with scotch and bits of glass. “I know you did it! BOTH of you!”

He lets out a harsh breath as if he realizes that he’s running dangerously close to completely losing control of his anger. When he speaks next, his voice is tight and controlled.

“But what I want to know is...why?”

“I keep telling you, I don’t know why you were sent to Italy!” I insist. “I didn’t know anything about it until you told me you were being transferred. I asked Josh about it but he didn’t know anything about it either. I always figured it was Secretary Hutchinson that sent you there in retaliation for the forced depletion report you did for the President on Kundu.”

He stares at me for a long moment. “Are you incapable of saying anything that isn’t a lie?” he asks me. “No one is going to banish me for a fucking report.”

“They do in Washington,” I try to defend. “Hutchinson and the President don’t always have the best of relationships. Hutchinson loves to do things to further his own agenda even if it undermines the President which is why you were asked to do the report and not him. I’m sure Hutchinson was pissed when he found out that the President went around him and he took it out on you by having you transferred.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” he says angrily. “There has to be more to it than just that report. I’ve thought about it long and hard and it all comes back to you and Josh. While I was in Italy watching my career crash and burn I had an interesting conversation with a reporter. He told me all kinds of interesting rumors about you and Josh.”

My stomach jitters, but I try to keep my voice level. “What kind of rumors?”

“Oh, the kind that say you and Lyman have been screwing each other since day 1. That the two of you hide it because it would be a scandal for him and the President if it was ever confirmed.” He paces in front of the couch. “You know, Donna, it would have been nice if you’d told me that you were fucking your boss when we were...DATING!”

“It wasn’t like that!” I try to make him understand. “When you and I were dating, Josh and I weren’t...we were never like that.”

I don't tell him that we're together now and, it could be argued, that it’s largely because of him and this whole experience. Even if he believed me, I don't think he'd be very happy about that little tidbit.

Jack snorts out a laugh. “You could have fooled me...hell, actually you DID fool me. You two have looked pretty cozy over the past couple of weeks and all you did during the entire time I knew you was talk about Josh! The kicker is I ASKED him if I was getting into the middle of something when he was all but pimping you out to me and he said no! And like a big sap I bought it hook, line and sinker!”

“You weren’t a sap and there was no story to buy! Josh was just my boss and my friend back then,” I try and tell him, but he is too busy ranting to listen to anything I have to say.

“Even when that reporter filled me in I still didn’t want to believe it...but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.” He throws up his hands. “From the day I met you outside that damn polling place, my life has gone downhill fast. So I ask you again, Donna, why? Why ME?!”

I have no idea what to say to him. He’s obviously beyond the point of actually wanting the truth. “I don’t know,” is the only lame ass answer I can come up with.

He looks at me in disbelief. “You don’t know? You ruin my life and all you can say is ‘I don’t know’?”

Despite the being tied up and basically at his mercy, I can’t help the finger of anger that starts to rise above my fear. “Why don’t you save us both some time and tell me what you want me to say?” I snap back at him.

His response is quick and painful. I'm too surprised to even cry out when he slaps me hard across the face making stars dance in my vision and my cheek feel like it’s on fire. 

“Don’t get cute, Donna, it’s not your forte and I’m in no mood for it,” he says as he turns away. 

Blinking away the tears that automatically spring to my eyes, I force myself to look at him and ask the question I probably don’t want to know the answer to. My mouth feels sluggish and mere act of trying to speak sends little spikes of fire through the side of my face.

“What are you going to do with us?”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest thoughtfully. “It's pretty simple really. I thought I'd let Josh watch me kill you and then I'll shoot him in the head. After that it's really just a matter of clean-up. I figured I'd dump your bodies in the woods and be on my way out of the country before anyone else figures it out.”

I was right, I didn’t want to hear the answer. 

“But how are you going to outsmart the Secret Service and by now probably the FBI?” I challenge him. “Now that you’ve got me and killed their agents they’re going to keep Josh under lock and key and they’re going to be out for blood...your blood.” 

“Tactics, Donna. You learn all about tactics and strategy when you’re in the military. I’ve got a plan. And it’s a pretty good plan if I do say so myself,” he tells me, apparently unconcerned with the threat of the Secret Service and the FBI. “Not to mention I’m counting on Josh’s need to come after you. I have a feeling he’ll do exactly what I tell him regardless of what his handlers want.” 

Silently, I have to acknowledge that he’s right about Josh. If he can find a way, he’ll come for me and then Jack will have us both. I absolutely cannot let that happen. Now that I know I’m not going to be able to bargain with Jack or talk him out of leaving Josh alone, there’s only one other option I have open to me. 

I have to escape before Josh walks right into Jack’s waiting hands.

The problem with that is right now I’m in no position to do anything remotely like escaping. The only way, I’ll have a chance is if I get him to untie me. And I’d better do it soon because I’m running out of time.

Think, Donna, think...there has to be a way.

Thinking gets harder when I see him pick something up off the counter. It looks like a gun of some sort and I have to force myself not to panic. 

“Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed our little talk, I’ve got some things to take care of before I call Josh,” he says as he walks toward me. 

No, it’s not a gun he’s holding, I’m not sure what it is. It looks like something out of a science fiction movie. “What is that?” I ask.

“If you must know, it’s an automated pressure syringe, Miss Nosy,” he says holding it up. “The military developed them for field use when groups of soldiers need to be inoculated against something quickly. Depending on the size of the medication vial, it can deliver up to three hundred doses in under a half hour.” He sends me a pointed look. “It’s also very easy to give someone an overdose by injecting them multiple times.”

That hangs in the air between us for a moment and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle unpleasantly. If I wasn’t lying down, I’m sure they’d be standing straight up. 

Jack continues on as if we’re chatting about the weather and all I can think is that my time just ran out.

“This little beauty hasn’t made its way through the FDA yet though so it can’t be used outside the military. It uses compressed air instead of a needle to deliver the medication and it can even go through something as thick as a t-shirt. Pretty cool actually. I sort of...appropriated one on my way out of the Navy.”

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask trying to sink back into the couch as much as possible, even though I already have a pretty good idea what he intends.

He grins at me. “Well, given that I’m holding it in my hand and moving toward you, one could surmise that I’m going to give you a shot of something.”

My heart starts beating fast and hard again. That must have been the prick I felt during the car accident before I blacked out. “What are you going to give me?”

“If I tell you then it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” he teases.

“That kind of surprise I can live without,” I respond.

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice now do you?” he says spitefully as he starts to lean in. “I don’t trust you to not cause me any trouble while I’m getting things ready for Josh’s arrival so it's time for you to go nighty-night again.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say suddenly. In addition to the fact that I really do need to pee, it’s the only possible way I can think of to get him to untie me. 

Jack regards me for a moment, his eyes narrowed and assessing. Just about the time I think he’s going to give me the shot anyway, he lets out a sigh and sets the pressure syringe on the kitchen table. 

“Okay, since I don’t like things messy, I’ll let you use the bathroom. But don’t take all day, I’m on a schedule here.” 

He starts to untie me, then surprises me by wrapping a length of the thin but strong rope around my throat and tightening it just enough to make it a little difficult to breathe. I have to force myself not to panic as he leans in close enough that his face is only inches away from me when he speaks.

“And Donna...if you try and pull something or give me a moment’s trouble, I’ll make you very, very sorry. Do you understand?”

I’m already very, very sorry I ever met you, I want to scream at him, but I manage to hold it in and I instead I nod numbly. That seems to satisfy him because he loosens the rope, finishes untying me and steps back.

“Now get to it,” he says jerking his head toward the bathroom.

Trying to get up off the couch turns out to be quite the feat. My hands and arms are asleep from being tied under me for so long and my legs feel a bit shaky, I'm guessing from the drug he gave me earlier. It takes all my energy and concentration just to shove myself off the couch and walk the 10 feet across the room to the bathroom on very wobbly legs.

"Oh, and leave the door partway open," Jack instructs.

Closing the door as much as I think he'll let me, I quickly relieve my full bladder and study the bathroom for anything I can use as a weapon. There's not much. Either he hasn't been here much or he already thought that I might try this because there isn't so much as a can of hair spray or a razor in the small bathroom. Somehow, I don't think the bottle of antibacterial hand soap or the single hand towel is going to help me much.

On the plus side the toilet, the small stall shower and the bathroom window are actually behind the door so even with the door halfway open he can't really see what I'm doing. Since I can't see any available weapons, I study the bathroom for an escape route. The window is actually quite promising. It's surprisingly large and appears to only be secured with a simple latch. It's also over the toilet so I could use the tank as a stepping stool to climb through it. Could it really be that simple? Could he have been that careless?

When I look out of it, I see it's not nearly as great an option as I thought. Outside the window are dense woods so there's no way I can signal someone or throw or drop something outside in hopes of it being found. If I was to climb out, I have no idea what way I should go to find help or how far the woods extend. I'm also wearing a skirt and mid-level heels. Not exactly the best thing to wear to go running through the woods in. What I wouldn't give for a pair of sneakers and some sweatpants right about now.

My heart really sinks when I press my face to the window and look down. Even though the cabin we're in only appears to be one floor, it's built into the side of a fairly steep hill and the bathroom window is on the downhill side. Consequently, I estimate that the distance from the bathroom window to the ground is the equivalent of a second story drop. And, unlike the movies, there's no handy tree for me to use to climb down. The only thing in my favor is that the ground looks like it's soil covered in leaves and might give me some cushioning...but not much.

"Hey, you almost done in there?!" Jack calls making me jump.

It's quickly apparent that the window is my only choice. If I survive the fall, maybe I can lose Jack in the woods. If I don't survive the fall...well, that's just not an option.

"Yeah, I'm just finishing," I say flushing the toilet. The sound from it covers any noise I make from unlocking the window. Trying to retain some semblance of modesty, I tie the front of my blouse into a knot. If I wasn't fighting for my life I'd probably laugh at how ridiculous I look. Kind of a cross between Daisy Duke and a secretary.

Moving quickly, I turn on the water in the sink as if I'm washing my hands and I use the sound of it to mask me opening the window and climbing up onto the toilet tank. To keep from twisting my ankle when I fall, I slip my shoes off and shove them into the back of my skirt, tucking them into my pantyhose to keep them in place. I figure I can put them back on when I get down on the ground.

I swing my leg out over the window sill and try to focus on climbing out the window and not the fact that I'm stepping out over nothing and how far I'm about to FALL. 

It’s a tight fit, but somehow I manage to swing the other foot around so I’m sitting on the window ledge facing out. Looking straight out instead of down, I sit there for a second trying to decide if this was such a hot idea.

“WHAT THE HELL!!!” I hear Jack roar behind me.

With that, the decision is made and I shove myself out the window.

The sensation of falling is terrifying, but mercifully brief as I slam into the ground below and fall forward. Pretty much every bone, joint and muscle in my body from the waist down protests at the sudden stop, but I don’t hear any crunching or other sounds of something breaking which gives me hope. Because the house is on a steep hill, I don’t just come to a stop but my momentum has me rolling down and away from the house. When I get to the bottom of the hill and stop, I lay there stunned for half a second before my brain kicks in and I force myself to get up. One of my shoes got lost somewhere along the way and so I toss the other one away and start running in my stocking feet.

Well, it’s more of a limping jog than running. My legs still feel sluggish as if they won’t obey my commands to run faster and shooting pains go through my right hip and ankle with every step I take, but I force myself to keep going anyway. 

It doesn’t help that the woods are thick here with low hanging branches and under growth and I have literally no idea where I’m going. Although it’s a little hard to hear over the roaring in my head, I’m pretty sure that I’m also not being exactly being stealthy as I crash through the underbrush. My one consuming thought is that I have to keep moving.

Then, somewhere behind me, I hear other footsteps crashing through the woods behind me and Jack’s voice filled with murderous rage that makes my blood run cold.

“DONNA!!!!” he screams. 

Time takes on a weird quality and I have no concept of how long I’ve been running but it feels like forever. Except for chasing Josh around the White House, I’m not one for working out much so I’m not exactly in the best of shape. In addition to the pain in my hip and ankle, I now have a cramp in my side that is just this side of excruciating, my feet are stinging painfully and I’m finding it hard to even draw a breath. 

Even though he’s stopped screaming for me, I can still hear Jack behind me somewhere giving chase so I know that I can’t let up and somehow I keep going. I try to focus on where I’m going and the fact that if I’m caught it will make things worse for Josh later.

Pain shoots through my foot when my toe connects with a large tree root and then I’m falling forward with a crashing thud. I only have time to turn over before I catch a flash of Jack’s dark form as he leaps on me like some kind of animal, pinning me to the ground. 

I try with all the strength I have left to fight him off and we roll around on the damp ground for a bit. When we finally stop moving, he’s straddling me but my arms and legs are free and I strike at him any way I can. 

“Stop it!” he orders me but I ignore him. 

Then his hands are around my throat and he’s slowly squeezing and it’s hard to breathe.

“I SAID STOP IT!” he yells at me.

Fighting to breathe, I scratch frantically at his face and his hands to try and get him to let go. As his hands begin to tighten, I’m quickly losing the battle to remain conscious and a greyish-black mist begins to seep into my vision and things begin to shrink, almost like I’m looking through the wrong end of a telescope.

The fight ebbs out of me and I come to grips with the fact that I’m probably about to die. It’s an odd moment and not as terrifying as I would have once thought. Not for me anyway. My fear is mostly for Josh as are all my regrets about all the things we never got to do. But as for me, I’m so tired, I just want it to be over. I’ve never given much thought to the next life but I hope with all my soul that there is one and that Josh and I will find our way to each other there. 

With idle detachment, I notice that a little drop of spittle has gathered at the corner of Jack’s mouth and the image makes me want to laugh a little. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the oxygen deprivation.

“I told you I would make you sorry,” Jack growls quietly.

I don’t even pretend to care about having a response to his statement. However, very dimly, my brain reports that he has removed one of his hands from my throat and it’s a little easier to breathe...or in my case, wheeze. Unfortunately, I’m too dazed to do much about it.

Still breathing hard himself, Jack looks down at me and I see rage and oddly...pity in his eyes. 

“I want you to remember that you brought this on yourself,” he says almost sadly.

With that, he balls up his fist, rears back and then with lighting quickness, lets it fly back toward my face. 

In the instant before he connects I close my eyes. 

I feel a blinding pain and then...nothing.


	12. Countdown

Nobody will answer my damn questions. I hurried off the plane and ran for the vehicle I was directed to but nobody inside it can or will answer my questions. I can feel my blood pressure rising, but my medication is in my bag and I’m not going back for it. The bastard called me two more times during the flight. The first time he just told me I was down to 8 hours and disconnected the call. The second time he put Donna on the phone for a few seconds; just long enough for her to call my name before giving me the updated 6 hours and 13 minutes timeline. Then there was that awful nightmare. I haven’t had a dream that disturbing since…It’s been a long time.

I swear my heart skips a beat when my cell rings again. I shakily lift it to my face so I can see the caller ID; Donna. I take a fortifying breath and answer.

“Josh Lyman.” 

“How’s it feel to back in D.C.?” Son of a bitch, I just landed! From a military transport flight! What the hell?!

“Put Donna on the phone.” I demand.

“Sorry, Donna hasn’t been behaving. She had to be punished and I’m afraid that includes loss of her telephone privileges.”

“If you so much as touched her…”

“Oh, I’ve touched her Lyman. Maybe not as often as you, but I’ve touched her.” 

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m sure they’re taking you to the White House now, but you better explain to them you don’t have that kind of time…or at least, Donna doesn’t have that kind of time.”

“Tell me where to go.” 

“That’ll be your next call. Be ready to move, on your own. If you bring the Cavalry, I’ll find out about it and I’ll kill her on the spot. Four hours and 38 minutes, Lyman.”

“Tell me where? I’ll come now.” I offer but there’s only silence now.

“Mr. Lyman? We’re here.” My driver announces and my usual entourage of Secret Service agents escorts me into the building. Just inside the doors is a face I’m thrilled to see; Mike Casper.

“What do you know, Michael?”

“Precious little.” He admits. “Secret Service has an agent down on this one so it’s their op but they’re sharing information at the moment in exchange for assistance. You okay?”

“What do you think?” I snap.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He thumps me on the shoulder which is about all the physical support men are allowed to give other men and we walk quickly together toward the Oval. “Ron Butterfield is running this personally. The hit on Donna’s vehicle here was impressive.”

“Impressive?!” I repeat incredulously.

“I mean, that taking a subject from a four man Secret Service team is a formidable task. It looks like it was some kind of military op.” Mike explains.

“A subject?” 

“Josh, this is how we get the job done, okay? We analyze the evidence objectively. That’s how we get Donna back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I sigh and bust right into the Oval without so much as a nod at Debbie Fidderer.

“Josh…” The President stands up and crosses over to me quickly. 

“Tell me we know something. Tell me some of the world’s best trained agents are right now, at this moment, taking Donna from that…”

“Hold on.” The President interrupts me. “You don’t look so good, Josh. Sit down a minute.” 

“Due respect sir, if it were Abby this guy had, how would you feel?”

“I hear you.” But I see him nod at somebody by the door and they slip out quickly. “They’ve been able to trace the call to a cell tower area here.” The President indicates an area on a map spread out on his sitting area table. 

“Then they’re out searching the area now?” I feel a little hope for the first time in hours.

“It’s a 35 square mile area, Josh. It’s going to take lots of time and lots of manpower.” He tells me.

“How much time, sir? Cause that bastard just told me she’s got 4 hours and thirty some minutes now.” I stress.

“He’s not going to hurt her now, Mr. Lyman.” Ron’s voice reaches me from the opposite side of the room. “He’s determined to get you to his location and he can’t do that if Ms. Moss is incapacitated or dead.”

“That really isn’t reassuring, Ron.”

“It should be.” Mike interjects. “This is based on years of profiling, Josh. He knows what he’s talking about. This guy can’t lure you to him without Donna and he’s going to know that you’ll demand to hear her voice, see her face, before you do anything he says.”

“He said she wasn’t behaving. That she had to be punished and she lost her phone privileges.” I repeat what I just heard.

“We know.” Ron nodded. Of course he knows. Everybody and their brother is listening in on these calls by now. “But when push comes to shove he’s going to let you talk to her because he can’t get what he wants any other way. You’re going to refuse to do anything else he asks if you don’t talk to Ms. Moss at regular intervals.”

“The hell I am.” I scoff. “If that guy asks me to rob the Federal Reserve and get him out of town on the space shuttle, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” 

“Josh?” Shit. Dr. Bartlet is here. “We’re going to quickly check your blood pressure.”

Notice how she didn’t ask my permission?

“Have you been taking your medication?”

“Not since we left Mexico, Ma’am.” I admit and she gives me a dirty look.

“Why don’t we rectify that now?” 

“I would except the pills are in my suitcase and I left that on the plane.” I explain. 

“I’m sure we can get some here for you in no time. I’ll take care of it.” She gives a regal nod to one of her agents who takes off in search of my pills no doubt, while she takes my blood pressure and clucks her tongue at the numbers while the conversation swirls around us.

“Agent Butterfield? We have confirmation.” One of his men announces.

“Confirmation on what?” I ask.

“Voice ID.” Ron states. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Williams.”

“Jack Reese, sir.”

I stand up involuntarily and Abby gently pushes me back down. “Jesus…”

The implications are mind boggling. I look over at Mike and see that he is not as shocked as I would expect him to be. “You knew?”

“Suspected.” Mike corrects. “Nobody could put a location him since he was dishonorably discharged and from the military look of the kidnap to the personal tidbits he dropped…”

“What damn personal tidbits?”

“He mentioned your crappy watch in one conversation; he’d have to know you and Donna pretty well to reference that.” Mike ticks off the points. “Calls Donna, Donnatella in another. He makes a point of telling you he’s touched her. It’s personal for him; his connection to you and to Donna.”

I feel sick. I must look it because Dr. Bartlet moves a trash can next to me. “Then he’s not looking to make a deal; with me or the President.” I state.

“No.” Ron agrees.

“He’s going to kill her?” I ask, afraid of the answer. I’m perfectly okay with him lying to me at the moment.

“He’s going to try.” Ron levels with me. “And it won’t be just her. He sees you as an integral part of this equation. He wants you both.”

“Great.” I laugh a little hysterically.

“In a way it is.” Mike tells me. “He can’t make a move to hurt her until he has you. That buys us both time and leverage.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes.

“Ma’am.” An agent brings my bag in. I have no earthly idea how it got here so quickly unless it was already on its way here. It hardly matters now. Nothing in any of those vials is going to bring my blood pressure down to normal. I say as much to Dr. Bartlet.

“It’s going to prevent you from having a stroke or a heart attack though.” She points out. I guess that’s why she’s got the medical degree. She hands me pills and water and I dutifully take them. 

“He’s going to call again very soon, Mr. Lyman. We need you to be ready with a plan.”

“My plan, as I’ve already told you, is to do whatever the hell he wants until I see Donna again.” I reiterate. 

“Josh.” The President sits down next to me. “You need to do exactly what Ron and his team tell you to do now. That’s our best chance of getting Donna back unharmed.”

At that moment the door to the Chief of Staff’s office bursts open and I see Leo looking pale and shaken. Maybe he should have some of my pills.

“It’s gonna be okay, Josh. Donna’s going to be okay.” He tells me with steel in his eyes. I think if he were 20 years younger he’d be suiting up for this one. He’s thinking he and the President sent me to Mexico during all this and that’s adding a few layers of guilt.

“First things first, Mr. McGarry.” Ron interrupts the silent communication happening between us. “He’s going to try to separate you from your detail and from anything that might help us track you.” Ron tells me. “We can’t allow that.”

“Which means what?”

“We need to place some tracking devices on you so that even if we’re separated we’ll be able to follow you.” Mike explains.

“What does that mean; place tracking devices on me?”

“We’re going to attach several small, dime size GPS trackers on you and your accessories; your watch, your clothing, etc.” Ron clarifies and holds out his hand for one of his agents to pass him these tracking devices. They are small; tiny really, but still easily seen if you’re looking for them and I have to assume Jack will be looking for them.

Mike starts giving me the run down on the phone call that’s coming while Ron and his friends start ‘placing the tracking devices’ which involves various stages of undress which apparently Abby Bartlet doesn’t feel the need to leave for. 

“First, you need to keep him on the line as long as possible.” Mike instructs me. “Keep asking him questions; questions that will piss him off enough to stay on the line and fight with you.”

“Any suggestions on how to do that?” I ask.

“Should be a piece of cake for someone with your talents and skills.” He quips. “Make it personal, Josh.” He advised in a low voice. “What gets guys the most? Ego. Attack his ego personally and professionally.”

“That I can handle.” I reply.

“I thought so.” Mike nods. “Cooperate as much as you can without giving him what he actually wants.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“If he wants to meet you somewhere, agree, but you pick the place. If he wants you on a train, you agree, but…”

“I pick the train?” I guess.

“Not quite.” Mike drawls. “You want assurances that Donna is okay before you get in or on anything that moves you closer to him. You need to hear her voice. Hell it’s the age of the internet. Make him put her on a videocam. That’s going to help ensure her continued good health and safety. Listen to me, Josh.” He waits until I make eye contact with him which I do even though some strange guy literally has his hands places I’m not comfortable with. “You can NOT give in on this point. You MUST refuse to do anything he asks until you talk to or see Donna.”

“Yeah.”

“Every move needs to be on quid pro quo basis.” Ron picks up the speech. “He wants something from you, you get something from him; every step of the way. The first thing he’s going to ask you to do is blow off your detail and come alone.”

“Okay.”

“No, Josh, not okay.” Mike sighs. 

“He said he’ll know if I bring anyone with me and if I do he’s going to kill her. I’ll go alone and you can track me with all this…stuff.” I state.

“We’ll make sure we don’t do anything to endanger Ms. Moss, but you will have company on whatever trip he has planned for you.” Ron states a little more forcefully than I did.

“Starting with me.” Mike informs me and I turn a look on him. “This is what I do. You think I’m going to sit on the sidelines while you deal with this alone?”

“You’re going to let him bigfoot you on your operation, Agent Butterfield?” I ask.

“Agent Casper and I have come to mutually beneficial agreement.” Ron says seriously.

“Well I would have loved to have heard that conversation.” I note.

“I’ll re-enact it for you later.” Mike smirks. “Last but not least, if any of us, and I’m including Dr. Bartlet here, if any of us tell you to get down, you hit the dirt like your life depends on it…because it probably will.”

“I feel much better now, Mike, thanks.” I snap.

“You don’t want to feel better now. You want to be on edge. It makes the adrenaline flow and increases your reaction time to unforeseen events.”

“Now I’m really feeling ill.” I reply. “Tell me there aren’t going to be any unforeseen events.”

“There aren’t going to be any unforeseen events.” He replies with a straight face, but I know he’s lying to me. He has to teach me how he does that someday. Sure, I can bullshit in political situations, but in real life? Not so much. 

“Josh, every possible resource is going to be at the disposal of you and these teams.” President Bartlet assures me.

I’m about to respond when my cell rings again. Showtime.

“Josh Lyman.”

“How’s the President?” He asks.

“Getting his pen ready to sign your execution order, Jack.” I spit out.

“Those idiots at Treasury finally figured it out, huh?” Reese laughs. “Good for them. It took them long enough.”

“They won’t take nearly as long to take you out.”

“They’re going to need to be very careful with their aim. I’m the only one on the planet who knows where Donnatella Moss is. If something bad happens to me, she dies a slow painful death, all alone in the dark.”

I clamp down on my urge to threaten him and instead remember what Mike told me. Attack the ego. I send a look at the room of people who are listening in on this call and go to work.

“I don’t think they’re going to have any trouble having Donna tucked safely into her bed by nightfall. They’re really not so impressed with your moves so far.”

“Is that why I have Donna with me and one of their agents is dead?” He taunts.

“Anybody can get lucky and you’ve been gearing up for that move for what, months?” I laugh. “When you have to make spur of the moment decisions and react instantaneously, you’re going to choke.”

“It’ll be Donna that’s gonna choke, Lyman, and if you’re lucky you’ll get to watch first before I put a bullet in your head.” His volume has increased and his breathing sounds heavier. I try to think of this like a political play. Reese has got tells just like any other opponent I’ve come up against. Tweaking his ego seems to work too; thanks Mike.

“I’m in the White House surrounded by the best trained protection detail in the world. You don’t have those kinds of skills, Jack. If you turn yourself in now, the President might be willing to consider taking the death sentence off the table.”

“Fuck you!” Reese shouts. “And I don’t need to get to you at the White House because you’re going to come to me, Lyman, hear me? You’re going to come to me!”

“What kind of drugs are you on that you can imagine a situation where I’d come to you, Jack?” I laugh again. “Is that why you got booted from your sad, sad assignment in Italy?”

“I was only in Italy because you and your whore set me up!” He’s really losing it now. Well, I guess technically you could say we already had ample evidence that he lost it some time ago.

“You were in Italy because you couldn’t cut it at the White House. You shouldn’t feel bad about that, Jack. A lot of people don’t make the cut.” I offer.

“Shut the hell up.” He shouts and seems to re-group a bit. “You’re going to do what *I* say now, Lyman. I’m in charge. And to show you that you don’t get to talk to me like that anymore, there’s going to have to be consequences.”

My hand tightens on the phone. We didn’t discuss consequences when we prepped for this call. I whirl around so I’m looking straight at Ron. He makes this calm down gesture with his hands.

“Walk out the main gates right now. Take a right on the sidewalk. Go 8 blocks until you get to 23 rd street. Turn left. There’s a blue Mazda parked there. The keys are in the glove compartment.”

“You left the keys to a car in the glove compartment in D.C.? There’s no way the car is still there.” I scoff.

“The doors are locked.” He shoots back.

“Then how the hell am I supposed to get in?”

“Break a window. Or don’t the delicate gentlemen from Westport know how to do stuff like that?”

“What am I supposed to do once I’m in the car, Jack?” 

“Start driving toward Virginia. I’ll call you with further instructions once the car is moving. Oh and leave your phone in the Oval. You won’t be needing it any longer.”

“If I leave my cell here, how are you going to call me with further instructions?”

“I’ll take care of that.” Reese assures me. “Just do what I say and do it now. Don’t bring anyone or anything with you. You fail to follow these directions and you never get to see Donna alive again.” My blood runs cold but I remember what Ron and Mike said; quid pro quo.

“How do I know you haven’t killed her already?” I ask. “I’m not going anywhere until I speak to her.”

“That’s not an option right now.”

“Then I don’t move an inch and your little plan of retribution goes down the toilet. Put her on the phone or we’re done with this conversation.”

There’s a long pause and I think maybe I’ve pushed him too far.

“Josh?” Her voice is shaking and sounds…off but it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“I’m here, Donna. Hang on. I’m coming.”

“Josh, don’t…” She starts to warn me off but then there’s a scuffle and I can hear her crying as the phone gets yanked away from her.

“You’d better get moving, because part of your consequences are that I just shaved off some of your allotted time. She now has just 3 hours and 30 minutes to live.”

“Hold on!” I shout. “Just wait a second.”

“The clock is ticking on your crappy watch, Joshua.” He says in a sickening imitation of Donna. “You’d better move your ass.”

“Jack, wait.” I insist.

“Oh and the other part of your consequences?” Jack says and there’s another pause before I hear a loud thumping noise followed by Donna’s scream and then sobs. I nearly drop the phone. “I don’t care what those highly trained agents told you Lyman. You’re not in charge here; I am.” The line goes dead and my knees go weak. 

“Let’s go, Josh.” Mike tells me and I look at him like he’s nuts. “We’ve got to move now. Donna’s depending on us.”

“You can’t go with me.”

“I can and I will.” Mike insists. “Trust me. Let’s go.”

I decide to trust the man because I really don’t have much of a choice and I barely remember to drop my phone before we take off at a jog.

The blue Mazda is right where Reese said it would be. I look at Mike for direction on how to break into the vehicle. He takes out his weapon and takes off his jacket to wrap around the gun. A couple quick hits shatters the passenger side window enough that he can reach through and unlock the door, then retrieve the keys from the glove compartment. He tosses them to me and hits the automatic locks. I keep looking around nervously as we get in and slowly pull the car out onto the street. I can’t believe we haven’t been arrested yet. Did Ron put a call out to the DC police?

I maneuver us out into traffic and do what I was told to do; head for Virginia. Immediately a phone starts to ring. I follow the sound and reach under my seat to pull out a small cell phone.

“Yeah?” 

“So far, so good.” Reese tells me. “Looks like it’s true what they say about politicians; they’re all just really crooks at heart.”

“Where am I driving, Jack?”

“Under your seat is a GPS device. Plug it into your cigarette lighter.” 

“Hold on.” I hand Mike the phone and search for the GPS while I try to avoid killing us in D.C. traffic. I get it plugged in and grab the phone back. “Done. Now what?”

“Hit the button for locations, then the location marked Donna.” He instructs me and I do as he tells me. I’m told to follow the highlighted route. Mike takes it from me and tries to find the ending location but it appears to be locked now with a blank screen so we only get the verbal directions as we need them. We share a look of disappointment. Then it announces the ETA; 2 hours and 8 minutes.

“Hey! This thing says this little trip is going to take over two hours.” I complain.

“Yeah…I’d drive fast.” He chuckles. “Donna is waiting for you. I’ll try to keep her entertained until you arrive. I’m sure I can find something for us to do while we wait.” He hangs up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m really worried about Josh. This kind of stress could put anyone over the edge but he’s got health issues that complicate things and we still have another 60 minutes before we reach our destination…wherever the hell that is. I offered to drive about an hour ago and he almost took my head off. We’ve been maintaining silence since then. 

I open my cell phone to call into Butterfield. “We’re an hour out according to the GPS, you got any possible locations for us?”

“We’re about 20 minutes behind you but there’s still too much ground to cover to whittle down possible locations.” Ron reports. 

The cell phone Jack left for us rings and I quickly hang up mine. Josh puts it on speaker.

“I’m driving as fast as I can.” He answers.

“You’re going to need to pull over now and stop the car.” Reese tells him.

“Why?” Josh asks suspiciously.

“So you can let your F.B.I. friend out of the car.” Jack chuckles. Fuck. “I let you have company for over half the trip. You’re going to have to make the last leg on your own.”

I motion for Josh to pull over. We’ve still got the tracking devices and the rest of the team is only 30 minutes behind us. We can’t take a risk this close to Donna. 

I open the car door and give him one final warning, “Be careful.”

He nods and pulls away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I should be scared out of my mind right now but the closer I get to Donna, the calmer I feel. Somehow, I think that if I can just reach Donna, everything else will be okay.

I make the rest of the drive in 46 minutes since I’m breaking every speed limit in the land and finally pull into a turn road that leads to a dilapidated cabin. The cell phone remains silent so I turn off the car and slowly exit the vehicle. That’s when I hear him.

“Keep your hands where I can see them and walk slowly towards the door.” He calls out from inside the cabin.

I do what he says and when I get to the door he tells me to open it and walk inside. I see her the minute I cross over the threshold and I start to run to her but Jack’s order stops me in my tracks. “Stop or she’s dead.” Donna’s eyes go wide in panic. Her mouth is gagged and her arms and legs are bound. He’s hit her; repeatedly. I can see the bruises and some dried blood on her face. I swear on my father’s grave Reese is going to pay for that.

“Now strip.” Jack orders. I look at him incredulously. “There’s a sweat suit on the table next to you. Take off your clothes and put the sweat suit on. Then we’ll be ready for our road trip.” He announces. 

“Take the gag off first.” I demand but he doesn’t move a muscle. “Take it off. I want to hear her say she’s okay.” I keep eye contact with Donna. 

“No.” He refuses so I simply sit down on the floor. I know help isn’t too far behind me. I’m content to wait him out. Apparently, that thought has occurred to him too. He walks slowly toward Donna, keeping the gun on me and yanks the gag out of her mouth.

“I’m okay.” She says shakily.

“Now strip or she won’t be okay much longer.” He turns the gun on her and points it directly at her ear. She’s trembling, but she nods at me to go ahead. I toss my suit on the floor and change into the lovely sweat suit I’ve been provided with. 

“We really need to talk about where you do your shopping, Jack.” I tell him. “Surely someone who’s lived in Italy should know better than to buy such inferior clothing.”

“You’re going to be buried in it, Lyman, so learn to live with it.” Jack sneers. “Now come get your beloved ASSISTANT, who you have no problem whoring out for political purposes and carry her out to the car in back.” He tells me. I ignore his commentary and gladly take Donna carefully in my arms.

“It’s going to be okay, Donna.” I tell her quietly. “I’m going to protect you.”

“It’s another lie, Donna.” Jack laughs. “You aren’t going to be alive much longer to listen to them though, so there’s some mercy in that.” 

“I love you.” I refuse to acknowledge Jack’s presence and concentrate on Donna. Tears are running quickly down her face. 

“How touching.” Jack says sarcastically. “Put her in the back seat, then get in the driver’s seat. I have a nice quiet spot for us to conclude our business all picked out.” 

I gently place her in the backseat and fasten a seatbelt around her. I know it seems ridiculous when a lunatic is pointing a gun at our heads, but it’s the only way I can keep her safe at the moment. I kiss her forehead and get behind the wheel. “Where to now, Jack?”

“We’re going out the back way to avoid our Federal friends. Turn right at the end of the dirt road. I hope you got some sleep on the plane because we have bit of a drive ahead of us yet.”


	13. Countdown

Think, Josh, think. How the hell do I get us out of this? We’ve been driving for almost 45 minutes and things are looking more and more rural. I know sooner or later we’ll be found. Most of the tracking devices came off when Jack made me change, but there’s still the one in my watch. So I know eventually Mike and Ron will find us. It’s just a matter of whether we’ll be alive at the time. 

I’m incredibly worried about Donna. She looks horrible. She’s bruised, swollen, dazed, reeks of Scotch and I may be imagining it, but it looks like she’s has little shards of glass on her. I want to beat Jack to a bloody pulp, but I know now for sure that she’s suffered at least once for my actions and I can’t risk that again. 

Given the state she’s in, she’s obviously no help in overpowering him with me. So, I have to figure out how to outsmart him. 

Normally, this wouldn’t be so daunting, but one of us is a raving lunatic and believe it or not, it’s not me for once. 

Jack’s been trying to goad me into fighting with him or something, but I know whatever I say, he’ll take out on her and so I’ve remained quiet. He’s been saying pretty outrageous things. I’m pretty sure they’re meant to throw me off my game and some of them have come pretty close. Unfortunately, Donna hasn’t really been in any kind of condition to dispute the truthfulness of some of them. 

My eyes are constantly moving between the road and her reflection in the rear view mirror. Jack’s next to her in the back seat, presumably to keep me in line, I suppose.

“About 15 more minutes now.” He announces. So time is running out and I have no weapon. Jack’s got a gun and some other contraption that puts a horrified look in Donna’s eyes whenever he holds it up. Jack seems like quite the master of torture. 

Suddenly, it’s all crystal clear. I’m DRIVING our weapon. Wherever we’re going, it’s so Jack can kill us when we get there. So if I’m going to die, it might as well be in trying to escape and not because this psycho marched us there.

I wish I had Mike’s driving skills right now. He’d know exactly how to use this car to his advantage. The only thing I can do is try and put it into a tree on Jack’s side. There are plenty to choose from after all. I accelerate a bit as I take in the roadside and look for the most attractive spot to crash. 

“What’s your hurry, Josh?” Jack chuckles. “You know you’re going to die when we get there, right?” 

Donna meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and I try to apologize for what I’m about to do. There’s no way I can avoid pain for us here, I’m sure. But Jack never put a seatbelt on. 

I accelerate a little more. I’m not sure how fast is safe to do this. Well, there’s nothing safe about it, but there’s deadly and not deadly impacts. 

“Josh?” Jack asks, shifting a little. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m driving, Jack.” I reply.

“You’re speeding up.” He says. He takes his gun out and points it at Donna. “Slow the hell down or she dies.” 

“She’s going to die anyway, right?” I counter.

“Don’t fuck with me, Josh.” 

He’s threatened to shoot her in my presence twice now. He hasn’t cocked the hammer either time. 

I slam on the brakes and jerk the wheel to the left. The car goes careening off the road. Donna screams. Jack gets thrust up against the back of the seat. The car’s coming out of a 360 when it smacks a big, `ol sturdy tree…thankfully on Jack’s side. 

I take a moment in the quiet aftermath of the “accident” to regroup and take stock. My breathing is labored and my pulse is racing. My left shoulder and elbow are killing me, but I can move my arm…a little. I think other than that, I’m basically okay. 

I look back into the rearview mirror at Donna. She’s got blood coming down the side of her face, but it doesn’t look too bad. She’s also conscious.

“Are you all right?” I ask quickly. I pull the seatbelt off and wince as I open the door. She nods jerkily at me. I get out of the car and stumble to the back door. I’m a little shaky, but I yank the door open. She’s shaking and crying. Jack’s spread unconscious across her lap. I see the gun on the floor and immediately get that out of his grabbing distance. I see the other gun-like thing he’s taunted her with and pull that out, too. 

“What the hell is this thing?” I frown. 

“It’s a pressure syringe.” She says quietly. I don’t like how she spoke just now. 

“Donna!” I say sharply and she opens her eyes wider. There’s blood on the side of the car and I think she must have hit her head. 

I feel for a pulse on Jack’s neck. It’s light, but it’s there. I push him to the floor of the car off of her and unbuckle her seatbelt, untie her, and gingerly pick her up and out of the car. 

“Just shoot him.” She whispers harshly, clinging to my shirt and my shoulder. I’m surprised by the venom in her voice. 

“He’s not coming after us, Donna, and we’ll take the gun with us.” I say. If he regains consciousness, he’ll have no idea which direction we went. 

I lean her up against the car and that’s when I notice she’s barefoot. “What happened to your shoes?”

“I lost them when I tried to escape.”

“You tried to escape?”

“I DID escape, but he caught me.” She says and points to her head and I’m visibly reminded of her “consequences.” But there’s something more…something that I didn’t notice before.

There’s bruises on her neck. 

I bring my shaking hands up to her delicate neck and gently tilt her head up so I can see better. I swallow against the bile that’s rising in my throat and look down at the gun in my hand. I look up at Donna who has tears in her eyes. 

He caught her and choked her.

I look down at the gun in my hand and then at Jack’s unconscious form in the car. Everything I see is red and for the very first time in my life that I can remember, I feel raw anger. The blinding human rage to make the being who hurt her suffer like they never have before. I have the power in my hand to take the ultimate line of defense and ensure he never hurts her again.

My hand closes tightly on the gun. “Just shoot him.” She whispered before, and she meant it…then. But that wasn’t my Donna talking. My Donna could never do that.

And neither could I.

I can’t kill a man that doesn’t see his death coming. This is isn’t self-defense, it’s cold-blooded murder at point blank range, and I can’t do it. 

I can however take whatever it is he’s been pumping into Donna and at least buy us some more time. I push the syringe up against his shoulder and press the plunger. He doesn’t so much as twitch. I look across the car and see that his head has left a beautiful spider-web on the window. He’s not coming after us anytime soon. But I’m in motion to get us out of here all the same. 

I pop the trunk and rush around to pull it open. I immediately regret that I did this. Inside are garbage bags, a shovel, gasoline, rope. My stomach turns and I try my best to hide my mortification from Donna. I also spot a suitcase and a backpack. I dump the contents of the backpack out without paying attention to what any of it is and shove the gun and pressure syringe inside. I’ll need someone to identify what the hell he gave her. I spot a plaid blanket towards the back of the trunk and shove that in the backpack, too. Then my eyes fall on a suitcase. I presume Jack was going to take it with him when he left the country. I pull it out of the trunk and hiss against the pain in my arm. 

“What’s the matter?” Donna asks.

“There’s a suitcase here. I want to see if it’s got anything you can wear in it.” 

“I’m not wearing anything of his.” She says immediately.

“Donna, you can’t go around in a skirt and no shoes. If he wakes up, we have to be able to move fast.” 

“If you shoot him, he won’t wake up.” She reasons.

“I’m not going to shoot him. I drugged him. Donna, he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and he hit the window. He’s going to be here for a while, I’m sure.” 

“Then I’m appropriately dressed.” 

I drop the bag on the ground and walk back over to her, my body protesting every move I make. I bring my hands gently up to her face and stroke her cheeks with my thumbs. Her eyes fill up with tears and I gently touch my lips to hers. 

“I was so scared I was never going to see you again; or if I did, I’d be too late.”

“He told me he was going to make you watch while he killed me and then he was going to shoot you.” She says tonelessly. 

“Is this glass in your hair?” 

“He broke a glass above my head.” 

I close my eyes and tip my forehead against hers. “We HAVE to get out of here NOW, Donna. It’s going to be getting dark soon. I don’t want you to be in a skirt and no shoes if we’re out here all night.” She breathes in deeply and lets out a shuddered breath, then nods. “There’s my brave girl.” I whisper and move back to the trunk. I help her change into sweatpants and tennis shoes as fast as her battered body will let her, then throw the backpack over my shoulder with a wince and take her hand. 

We start back in the direction we came. It’s slow going as Donna limps along next to me and I start to wonder if I should be carrying her instead. She looks incredibly uncomfortable walking.

“They’re never going to find us out here, Josh.” She whimpers.

“Yes, they will.” I assure her. “They hid GPS units on me.”

“But Jack made you change.”

“There’s one in my watch.” I smirk. 

She smiles weakly and squeezes my hand. She really needs a doctor. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the trunk. I guess Jack didn’t anticipate a fight. 

“So, they’ll find us soon then.” She says softly and I nod in return. 

Hopefully very soon.

And hopefully before Jack does.


	14. Countdown

I have no concept of how long we've been moving. My entire focus is solely on following Josh's form as he moves through the underbrush and trees in front of me. 

But to be honest, I don't know how I'm even remaining upright at this point. When we started out from the car, just about everything in my body hurt. But now I don't seem to have any feeling at all. Not pain...not tiredness...not even the feeling of the ground under my feet. Instead I feel wrapped in cotton and as if I'm floating along behind Josh, tethered only by his hand holding mine. If it wasn't for that contact, I'm pretty sure I'd simply float away.

I just hope that it really is Josh running ahead of me and not some kind of twisted hallucination. The way my luck has been going, I'll probably wake up and find that I'm tied up in that horrible cabin again and this has been some kind of dream. Then again, maybe Jack really did kill me in the woods and this is some version of my own personal hell. Always running, never finding some measure of peace.

Suddenly, the world comes to a crashing halt. It takes me a moment to realize that we've stopped moving.

"Wait a minute..." I hear Josh say. Oddly, his voice sounds like it's coming to me from a long distance even though he's standing right in front of me. "This looks promising..."

Then he steps away from me and our hands slide apart. Suddenly, I'm flooded with the urge to cry at the loss of contact.

Josh walks over to look at something and it's very hard to see him. Now he's more shadow than substance. Then I realize why. The sunlight is fading fast and I'm guessing it will be dark soon. 

Wait...is it really getting dark or is my vision just failing? My mind can't tell the difference any more.

Again, I hear Josh speaking, but it sounds far away and I can't seem to understand the words he's saying. Almost as if he's started speaking in a different language.

The next thing I know, the ground rushes up at me and everything goes black. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~A few minutes earlier...~

I’m torn between two choices right now. Finding a place to hide until the good guys can find us or continuing to trek on through these apparently endless woods until we find some kind of civilization.

We’ve been moving at a pretty steady pace this whole time, although it was clear early on that whatever is wrong with Donna’s leg won’t let us move at more than a fast walk. I think that turned out to be a blessing in disguise because otherwise our energy would have probably ran out a long time ago or one of us would have added to our injuries by tripping on or running into something. Not to mention we make a hell of a lot less noise moving through the woods like we are rather than running flat out through it. I just hope we’re not leaving too much of a trail for Jack to follow...if he’s following us. By now, I hope Mike and the cavalry have found the car and Jack’s in custody.

As much as my instinct is to keep moving, logically, I know that we’re both about worn out. Okay, correction, I’M just about worn out, I’m pretty sure Donna is twelve degrees beyond exhausted. After the day she’s had, I’m a little surprised she’s made it this far. It’s a real testament to her strength of will. But even in the failing late afternoon light, I can see she’s getting paler by the minute and her steps are becoming more and more unsteady. I’m guessing that even her iron will is almost gone. 

And that’s the realization that makes the decision for me. We have to find a place where we can rest and hide until morning or until Mike and Ron find us, whichever comes first. Unfortunately, no handy cabin or other form of shelter conveniently presents itself. Earlier, I toyed with the idea of climbing up into one of the bigger trees and trying to hide there, but besides the fact that Donna and I are in no condition to be climbing in and out of trees, most of these trees all look fairly young and small and I doubt the branches would hold our weight. 

Maybe if we go just a little farther, something will turn up. If nothing else we can do something I saw in a movie once. The hero of the movie was lost in the woods and knew it was getting dark and cold and so he found a shallow depression in the ground and covered himself with leaves for insulation. We’ll also have our combined body heat and the blanket I shoved in the backpack for warmth. 

Having some kind of a plan B in place, makes me feel a little better. The problem is, now I’ve got to work on plan A. 

I swear if we get out of these woods, I will never boast about being an outdoorsman again. In fact, I will be perfectly happy if I never SEE a tree again...well beyond the kind you find in a city park or in the backyard of the house Donna and I are going to have. You know, the kind of trees that our kids will spend hours playing in.

Whoa...where did that thought come from? 

Focus Josh. There’ll be time to think about that later. Right now you need to work on that plan A that will get you and Donna out of this mess so you can buy that house and have those kids. 

And it better be fast because I wasn’t kidding when I said the light was going. I’m guessing that within the next half hour to forty-five minutes it will be dark. And when I say dark, I mean out-here-in-the-middle-of-freakin’-nowhere-with-no-city-lights-or-other-illumination dark. I don’t even think there’s supposed to be much if any moon tonight. Even if there was, I doubt it could penetrate the canopy of trees above us. 

The trees thin a bit up ahead and off to the left I see what looks like a very dense clump of trees and underbrush. But as we get closer, I realize that it’s actually some kind of rock formation. 

“Wait a minute...” I tell Donna as we stop to study it. What I see gives me a glimmer of hope. Although it’s not as big as I’d like, I think it may be large enough to have some sort of a cave or even an outcropping that we can use for shelter. “...this looks promising.”

Since I’ll only be a few feet from Donna and figuring she could use a rest, I let go of her hand and walk over to the rocks...well, boulders actually. I’m disappointed to find that there is no outcropping and really nothing I’d call a cave. The best thing I can find is a kind of gap between two of the larger rocks that goes back about five feet and can best be described as a hole. At the widest point, it only about three feet across and it’s only about four feet high so we couldn’t even stand up in it and it doesn’t go back far enough for us to lay down. We’d have to crawl into it and then sit and wait. In any case, it will definitely be a tight squeeze for both of us to fit. 

On the other hand, we’re going to need to be close to each other anyway to keep warm and I’m more than ready to hold Donna close for a while so I can convince myself I’m not having another nightmare like the one on the plane and she’s really back in my arms again.

Then I have what I think is a pure stroke of genius. Back the way we came where the brush and the trees were thicker, I saw some low bushes and even some fallen tree limbs. I’ll just bet the entrance...such as it is...to our new little shelter is small enough that I could pull some of those branches in front of it and hide it very effectively. Especially in the dark, you’d probably be able to walk right past it and never know that anyone was there. 

Yes! Plan A is finally taking shape!

“Okay, Donna, I’ve got an idea,” I begin excitedly as I turn back to her. “We just need too...Donna?”

She’s giving me the oddest look, as if she’s trying really hard to understand something and not having much luck. She starts to sway slightly and before I can even take a step toward her, she collapses to the ground with an ugly thud.

“DONNA!” I yell, running over to her. 

Kneeling beside her, I try to keep her weight on my good arm as I cradle her against me. 

“Come on, Donna!” I beg her. “Don’t do this to me now.”

Her eyes remain stubbornly closed and her features lax. Although I’m about as far from a doctor as anyone can get, I do the only thing I can think of. I gingerly touch her bruised neck and check for her pulse. My own heart starts beating again when I manage to find it. It’s beating strongly, but I think it’s a little fast. Of course I have no idea if that’s bad or good. What I’m hoping is that she’s just fainted from exhaustion.

“Donna...” I try again as I shake her a bit. Getting no response, I try and lightly pat her cheeks. Finally, I see her begin to stir and she lets out a little whimper and she weakly tries to pull away from me.

“No...don’t...please Jack, don’t hit me anymore,” she murmurs in a broken voice that all but rips the heart from my chest. For a moment, my rage over what’s happened to her makes me seriously want to rethink my decision not to shoot Reese when I had the chance.

Knowing I need to focus my energy on taking care of her instead of being angry, I do my best to shove down those thoughts.

“Donna,” I say gently. “It’s me, it’s Josh. No one’s going to hurt you anymore, I promise.” This time I rub my knuckles lightly over her cheek to try and coax her awake. “But I need you to open your eyes and look at me.”

“Josh...?” she murmurs and this time her eyes slowly flutter open.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I say trying to give her a smile. “Welcome back.”

“What...happened?”

Her eyes haven’t opened all that far and her voice is groggy, but right now I’m going to take what I can get. “I think you passed out.” 

She appears to try and process that idea. “I’m so tired...” she murmurs and it looks like her eyes are threatening to close again.

“No, don’t close your eyes,” I tell her. “I know you’re tired and we’re going to have a chance to rest but I need you to stay with me.” 

She blinks and seems to try and focus harder. “Okay,” she says in a voice that’s a little steadier. 

“Good, now if we go slow and I help you do you think you can move to that rock over there?”

“I’ll try,” she says.

My Donna’s got game, that’s for sure. “That’s all I ask.”

Somehow, together, we manage to get her up but she’s leaning on me heavily. Fortunately, once she’s up we make it over to the rock without too much trouble and I ease her down next to the opening of our temporary hiding place.

“Okay, you stay there and I’ll be right back...”

Her hand locks onto my arm with surprising strength. If I wasn’t wearing a long sleeve sweatshirt, I’m pretty sure I’d have her nail marks on my wrist right now. 

“No, Josh. Please don’t leave me,” she pleads. Tears swim in her eyes and it’s all I can do not to instantly give her what she wants. I can’t take it when she cries.

I kneel down beside her and wipe away the tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m not leaving you. I just need to get some branches to cover us up,” I explain and try to reassure her. “I’m not going far, just right over there. You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Okay?”

She looks a little dubious and a whole lot scared, but slowly she nods.

“Good, but I need you to do something for me while I’m getting the branches.”

“What?”

“I need you to stay awake.” I hope that giving her something to focus on will help her stay conscious. “You’re going to need to be the lookout so no one sneaks up on us.”

I see her straighten her shoulders a bit and it makes more proud of her than I can say. “I’ll be fine...no one will get past me,” she promises.

I can’t help but run my hand over her hair and I kiss her lightly on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, I hurry over to the branches and bushes I saw earlier and I manage to find a few that are already broken off that should work. I drag them over to the entrance and true to her word, I see Donna sitting where I left her, still awake and alternating between watching me and scanning the area around us. 

When I assemble the foliage I’ve dragged over there, I see that I still don’t have quite enough to cover the whole entrance so I look around for some more that I can use. I don’t see anymore foliage that’s already loose so I assess everything else. At first glance, the bushes growing out of the ground would be the easier than the tree limbs overhead, but they’re covered in rather large ugly thorns and even when I manage to find a good handhold on one, I find it’s surprisingly well rooted. What I wouldn’t give for a pocket knife right now. But in the absence of one, I guess I’m going to have to improvise.

Going to option number two, I jump up and grab a small but leafy low hanging branch and pull. A jolt of pain goes through my injured arm, but I force myself to ignore it. The limb I’m working on is somewhat green so it’s pretty flexible, but after a few hard tugs, it comes loose. From the euphoria I feel, you’d think I just scaled Mount Everest or you know, gave Mary Marsh a good thrashing on Capitol Beat, but I try to channel that energy into working fast to beat the failing light. I follow the same procedure with two more branches and I manage to come up all the foliage I should need. 

Of course by the time I’m done, my arm is also throbbing with a vengeance. 

Dragging my trophies back over to the ‘cave’ I kneel down by Donna again. “How you doin’?”

The light is nearly gone, but I can see her give me a weak smile. “Still here.”

I can’t help but grin back at her. “I never had any doubt. Now, do you think you can crawl into that hole for me?”

She glances over at our new home and then back at me. “Well, it wouldn’t be my first choice, but I think I can do it.”

“Go ahead, once you’re in I’ll follow you.” 

I wait until she’s settled, then I hand her the backpack and except for a small opening I left for me to use to crawl in with her, I start arranging the bushes and branches in front of the hole. By the time I’m done, the light has all but vanished so I can’t really survey how it looks. I only hope that I’ve done a good job with all the camouflage. 

Gripping the last branch in my hand, I get down on my hands and knees and carefully crawl backwards through the opening. Somehow I manage not to kick Donna in the process and I plug the opening with the branch. Despite the near pitch darkness we now find ourselves in, with some direction from Donna and a little careful squirming and maneuvering we manage to just fit in the tiny space. Luckily, it’s a little wider at ground level so while it’s a tight fit we can sit side by side. Our shoulders don’t have the same luxury though which is okay with me anyway because I plan on keeping my arms around Donna with her pulled tight against me. 

Going mostly by feel, I pull the gun and the blanket out of the backpack. Handing Donna the blanket to hold for a moment, I put the gun down between my leg and the rock wall next to me so I can get to it quickly if I need to. Since there’s only the medication contraption left in the backpack it doesn’t make much of a pillow but I put it carefully behind us to provide at least a modicum of protection against the cold rock at our backs. 

“Okay, Donna, now put your arms…” I feel her arms go around me like steel bands and I can help but chuckle a little bit. “…around me.”

Taking the blanket from her lap, I spread it out over us. I pull it up to our necks which means our feet are going to stick out a little, but I figure it’s more important for the rest of us to be warm than our feet. It’s not like it’s going to be freezing tonight anyway, cool maybe but not enough to give our feet frostbite or anything.

I make sure to wrap one side of the blanket around behind Donna, then I pull my hands underneath it and manage to tuck the other side of it behind my shoulder. Then I finally get to do what I’ve been waiting to do all day...put my arms around Donna. As I do, I feel her body relax against me and with a sigh she rests her head against my neck and I rest my cheek on the top of her head. In some ways our position is very uncomfortable, physically anyway, but in other ways, ways which are much more important to me right now, it is the most natural, comfortable feeling in the world. Having Donna safe in my arms will do that.

We sit there for a few moments and the sound of our mixed breathing is surprisingly loud. But as we calm down a bit, the sound softens until it begins to mix with the background noise of the natural sounds in the woods. 

For some reason it occurs to me then that it’s quiet and dark and we suddenly have nothing to do but sit here for the foreseeable future. After being in survival mode all day and running in one way or another, the sudden stillness is a little eerie. I have to resist the urge to say something along the lines of “well, now what do we do?”

Given the knock to the head she took in the car, I do, however, think it would be a good idea for me to do what I can to keep Donna from falling asleep or passing out again. I guess we’ll have to do what we always do...talk. Unfortunately, this time I don’t think our conversation is going consist of the light banter that we seem to be so fond of.

“Donna?” I begin tentatively.

It takes her a minute and she still sounds tired but she finally answers. “Yes?”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she says vaguely.

“Okay, try again,” I coax her. “How are you REALLY feeling?”

She sighs again. “I don't know. Weird. Before...when we were running, it was like my body was asleep. I didn’t feel anything. But now it’s beginning to wake up and just about everything hurts.”

“I’m not holding you too tight, am I?” I say trying to loosen my arms around her. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her response is immediate and she tightens her arms around me. 

“You’re not hurting me. In fact I want you hold me tighter.”

Her words send a warm shot right to my heart and I gladly tighten my hold on her even if it does send another jolt of pain through my arm. We lapse into another silence. Usually Donna’s the one that draws me out when we’re in a tense situation, but I guess the shoe’s on the other foot this time.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you.” I tell her quietly.

“Don’t do that,” she says with surprising vehemence.

I blink into the dark. “Do what?”

“Blame yourself.”

Wow, does she know me or what? “I just meant…”

“No, it’s not your fault, Josh,” she tells me. “You came for me, that’s what matters. I knew you’d come.” 

Her faith in me humbles me beyond measure. “All I could think of when he called was getting to you.” 

“He made me tell him how to call you on the plane. I didn’t want to,” she adds. “But he said I could talk to you if I did. I thought…maybe it would be better for you if I could let you know I was all right.”

“I figured it was something like that,” I tell her. 

We go quiet again and the next topic I want to bring up is sure to be a sensitive one and one that I would usually try to avoid altogether, but I think it might do Donna some good to talk about it. 

“Donna...” I try to begin. “Do you want to talk about what happened? What Jack...”

“No,” she says flatly.

“You might feel better if you did.”

“No, I won’t,” she replies as she pulls closer to me. “I’ll feel worse. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay,” I say, letting it go...for now.

I’ve had enough therapy in my life to know that she’s going to have to think about it and talk about it at some point...with someone and I make a mental note to call Stanley when we get out of this. Donna already knows him and he’s good at getting people to talk about stuff they don’t want to talk about.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that she won’t confide in me about what happened. I feel like I need to know what happened to her if I’m going to be able to help her deal with it. 

Then again, I just hope ‘I’ can deal with it. As if my rage doesn’t already consume me enough when I think of him hitting her and putting those bruises on her, it will be nothing compared to what I'll feel if I find out that did more than just hit her. I'm not blind, I saw how ripped her blouse is. If he put his hands on her to…to force her to…well, he better hope he’s dead because if he’s not I’m going to make it my personal mission in life to make sure his is a living hell. 

On the other hand, I would never blame Donna for anything that happened while that bastard was holding her captive. It wouldn’t be her fault. With her, I can accept anything. It occurs to me that she may need to hear that. Even if she won’t or can’t tell me what happened right now, I’m going to do what I can to reassure her. 

Absently, I run my hand over her back. “Donna, you know nothing that happened…nothing that he did to you while you were with him would matter to me, right?” I tell her quietly. “Nothing would make me stop loving you.”

I feel her press her face against my neck, then there’s a rush of dampness on my skin and although she’s quiet and still in my arms, I realize she’s crying. 

“Hey...hey,” I say, rocking her gently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry...I just wanted to let you know how I feel...that it’s okay.”

She clings to me for a bit, then slowly I feel her pull back a little. It’s so dark I can’t tell for sure, but I sense she’s looking up at me. 

“He didn’t...” she sniffs softly and I can hear the tears in her voice. “Not what you’re thinking. He just hit me...he liked to hit me.”

I hate that I’m relieved he ONLY beat her. I should have done more to see to it that he never laid a finger on her in the first place. She deserves long, soft kisses and being made love to slowly on rainy afternoons...or any afternoon for that matter. 

My hand finds her damp cheek in the dark. “Was it like that before...when you dated him and you didn’t tell me?”

I feel her shake her head and she pulls my hand off her face and grips it hard. “No, Josh, you have to believe me. Back then, it was nothing like that. The man who kidnapped me and the man I knew before were two different people.” Keeping our clasped hands tucked between our bodies, she lays her head back down and I feel her shiver slightly. “This time he was so angry...I tried to talk to him...to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear anything I had to say. He blamed us for losing his career...or in his mind for losing everything. I really think he would have killed us, Josh.”

"Well, that's behind us now." I say giving her hand a squeeze. "He's not going to hurt you ever again." 

"I hope you're right," she says quietly...almost absently. "Maybe it would have been better if I'd just taken the gun away from you back at the car and made sure."

Her words hit me with an almost physical punch. Again, I know shock and exhaustion are affecting her words...her judgment, but it's so unlike her. She's one of the gentlest, most caring people I know. I see now that not all her wounds from this are going to be physical. I will definitely need to call Stanley.

"Don't talk like that, Donna."

Her hold tightens on me. "I just don't want him to hurt you ever again either."

I kiss the top of her head. "As long as you're safe, there's nothing he can do to hurt me." Quiet falls between us again and for moment, we're left with only the sound of the forest.

"Maybe we should try to get some sleep." Donna suggests. "I really am tired."

"Normally, I would agree with you," I tell her. "But with that bump on the head, I'm not sure you should go to sleep."

"Great, I've had the most exhausting day of my life and I can't even go to sleep," she comments sleepily. "Sounds like the plot for some bad sitcom episode." She sighs. "Talk to me, Josh, tell me a story."

I can't help but smile. Tired as she is, when she asks the question she sounds like a little girl. Maybe our little girl. The thought sends an odd warmth through my chest.

"What kind of a story?" I ask her.

"Any story. I don't care. I just want to hear your voice." She tells me. "You're not the only one who likes to hear the sound of your voice." She adds with the hint of a smile in her own voice. "Tell me something from your childhood. Something I haven't heard before."

"From my childhood? Nah, that's all boring stuff. How about..."

"Please..." she said quietly.

Yeah, like I can deny her anything when she asks like that. "Okay...something from my childhood. Let's see..."

I search my memory for an interesting story from my childhood that I haven't already told her. No easy feat given how well she knows me. Then my mind latches onto something, oddly enough it's a story about me and Joanie. 

"When I was growing up, we spent a few weeks every summer at this lake in the Adirondack Mountains in New York. We stayed in a cabin right on the lake. There were a few other families we knew that would go at the same time so there were always a large group of kids to play with and the adults used to play cards and have these big barbecues."

"Sounds nice."

"It was nice. Anyway, the summer before Joanie..." My chest gets tight and my throat closes and it takes a moment for me to continue. "...the last summer we were there...I was nine and she was fourteen. She was always very athletic, graceful...me, I was a total klutz. In fact, the first year we were there, I nearly drown in the lake, but she saved me. Of course, it left me scared of the water and even after all those other summers we'd been there I'd never learned to swim. So when the other kids, including Joanie, would be swimming in the lake and jumping off the dock into the deeper part of the lake, I always stayed in the shallows or on the shore."

I have to take a breath before I continue. I'm a little surprised how hard it is to tell her what I thought would be a simple story. 

Donna must sense it because she gives my hand a squeeze. "Go ahead, Josh."

"Uh, yeah...well, that last summer she announced to me that she was going to teach me how to swim. I protested, but she insisted. So every morning before most of the other kids were out, we'd go down to the lake. She taught me how to float and how to tread water and the other basics of swimming. But I would never let her take me out too far. I had to still be able to touch my toes on the bottom. She would tease me and taunt me to try and get me to go out deeper and I never would."

"What happened then?" Donna asks me.

"A few days before we were supposed to go home, I got up and went outside for our swimming lesson. I found her at the end of the dock which was odd because up until then she either waited for me on the shore or we left the house together. I walked out there and asked her if we were going to have our lesson. She said no. She said that she'd taught me everything I needed to know. But, she said, she did have one piece of advice for me."

"And what was her advice?"

"She said, Josh...she was very theatrical my sister, not to mention a know-it-all...Josh, you can't always play it safe, sometimes you just have to be brave and take a chance."

Donna waited a beat. "And that's it?"

"No, and then she pushed me into the lake."

"What?" Donna says, clearly surprised.

I can't help but chuckle. "Yep, she gave me a shove and I fell in the water."

"She did?! Oh my God, did she jump in after you?" 

"Nope, she didn't need to. I came up sputtering and spitting mad...and treading water."

"You were?"

"Yeah, I yelled at her and asked her why she'd pushed me in. She just grinned at me and said she was teaching me to swim. See, I was too busy being mad at her to realize that I couldn't touch bottom. Once I stopped worrying about doing the easy thing, the safe thing, I was fine. From then on I never had a problem swimming." I pause and stare into the darkness. "As it turned out she was teaching me a hell of a lot more than how to swim."

I feel Donna snuggle against me. "I think I would have liked her."

"Actually you remind me of her."

Donna laughs softly. "What...I'm theatrical and a know-it-all?"

I rub my cheek against the top of her head. "No, you're fearless and funny and smart and not afraid to tell me the truth...or you know, push me in the water."

I expect her to make some flippant remark. What I don't expect is the feeling of her lips searching along my jaw until they find my mouth. Not that I'm complaining mind you. Just the opposite. After the day she's had, to have her kiss me like this is a miracle.

The kiss goes from sweet, to hungry to desperate in a heart beat and her hands find their way into my hair. I know that things can't and won't go beyond this tonight, but God it feels good. Kissing like this makes us remember why we're alive. The kiss goes on like that for a long time until we're both breathless and Donna is trembling slightly as snuggles up against me again.

"So does that mean...you...liked my story?" I say a little breathlessly.

"I loved your story," she says in a voice thick with emotion. "I know you don't talk about Joanie very often, so thank you for sharing it with me."

I tighten my arms around her again. "Okay, well, now it's your turn."

"My turn to what?" she asks.

"To tell me a story about when you were growing up that I haven't heard before." I tell her. "I like hearing the sound of your voice too."

"There's not much to tell," she insists. "It was pretty basic stuff."

"Oh, come on now," I coax. "There must be something. Now let me guess...hmmm, you in high school." I try to bring up an image of her in my mind at that age. "Wait, I know...you were a cheerleader right? A tall, blonde, cheerleader and you probably had the entire football team tripping over themselves to ask you out, right?"

She gives a little chuckle. "Wow, you couldn't be more wrong. I was too uncoordinated to be a cheerleader. I was tall but it was all arms and gangly legs and for most of the time in high school I was taller than all the boys in my class and if anyone on the football team tripped, it was because they tripped over me when I didn't get out of their way fast enough. If you'd been there, you wouldn't have looked twice at me."

"I don't believe that for a second." I tell her truthfully.

"I wasn't exactly what you'd call popular," she continues. "I got good grades and hung out with the drama kids and the band geeks. Actually I WAS a band geek."

I never thought about her playing an instrument. "YOU were in band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I was even in 'marching' band."

This is a whole new side of her. I can see her now in some starched white band uniform with piping on the shoulder and a funny little hat on her head. The image is really quite adorable. "What instrument did you play?"

"The flute...I was a flautist."

I can't help but chuckle. "Wait...you were a...what?" 

"A flautist, Josh. Someone who plays the flute."

"Is that a real word or is that a made up Donna word?"

"It's a real word!" she says pinching my ribs lightly, but she laughs softly which lets me know she doesn't mind the teasing. 

"Okay, okay, no need to get physical, I believe you," I say with a laugh.

She settles against me again. "Just because you were probably student body president and adored by all the teenage girls...you know, just like now."

Any woman who can tease me after the day she's had deserves some kind of an award. "Hey, not all my Lemon-Lyman fans are teenage girls," I protest.

She lets out a snort. "No, only a majority."

She knows she's got me over a barrel there so I move on. "Well, I'll have you know, I was not student body president, in fact I never ran for or held a student body council office. I was more the annoying guy who was on the debate team, argued with the teachers and got detention a lot, but still got straight A’s and ruined the curve for everyone. I wasn't what you would call popular either. I don't think most of the kids knew what to make of me."

"So pretty much like now, then?"

I have to laugh. She has a point. "Yeah, I suppose so. "I guess it's a good thing that you're so in tune with me or I'd be in trouble, wouldn't I?"

"And don't you forget it," She says rubbing her cheek against me. 

We continue to talk, swapping stories, including the details of my trip to Mexico, and sharing thoughts on a wide range of other things, but it isn’t long before injuries and exhaustion take her into sleep. It’s pitch dark but I continue to stare outside our hiding spot just in case. I'd gotten pretty accustomed to what sounds the woods made and the sound I hear now is definitely new.

If I'm not mistaken, it's the sound of footsteps. I gently rouse Donna, careful to keep my hand in front of her mouth so she doesn’t cry out.

"Did you hear that?" she whispers as I pull my hand away and her hold on me tightens.

"Yeah, I think someone's coming this way."


	15. Countdown

I wake up from a troubled sleep to find Josh holding his hand lightly over my mouth. As if that alone isn’t enough to send me into a panic, I immediately hear a noise that sends my blood pressure even higher; footsteps.

"Did you hear that?" I whisper as he pulls his hand away from my mouth and my hold on him tightens.

"Yeah, I think someone's coming this way." He replies.

As soon as he speaks the footsteps stop. I think my heart does too. I can feel Josh slowly move his hand, the one holding the gun, across his body and transfer it to his right hand. Not that it’s going to matter which hand he holds it in. He’s never fired a gun; I know that to be fact, but if it’s at point blank range even Josh…

“Agent Casper!” We hear a whisper shout and my heart starts beating again. “Wait for the team.”

“The hell with that.” Mike mutters.

“Mike!” Josh answers softly but it’s enough for Mike to zero in on our location. Within seconds, Mike clears away the brush Josh had used to hide us and a flashlight blinds us.

“God, am I glad to see you two.” Mike heaves a sigh of relief. He turns the light away from our eyes and hunkers down in front of us. “Are you two okay? Are you hurt?”

“Jack! He was by the c-c-car.” I blurt out. “Did you f-f-find him?” I can’t control my stuttering or the way my body is shaking.

“Easy, Donna. Let’s take care of you two for the moment.” He touches my hand gently and turns to face the rest of the group that’s assembled behind him. “Who’ve we got on medical detail?”

“Adams, sir.” Someone replies and a young man hurries forward. “Where are you hurt?” He asks me but I just shake my head. I can’t answer. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I can feel myself shrink closer to Josh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I did something to my left arm and shoulder. It’s not broken but it hurts like hell.” I fill in when it becomes apparent Donna is unable to. “Donna’s got a head wound and a lot of cuts and bruises. She did something to her leg or hip too.”

“Donna? I’m Agent Greg Adams. Can you take my hand so I can help you out of there and take a look at your head? It looks like it might be bleeding.” Donna doesn’t move a muscle. I edge out of my spot, still holding onto her hand with one hand and the gun with the other. That’s when Mike grabs it from me.

“Why don’t I hold the weapon?” He suggests.

“I’ve been holding the weapon just fine, thank you.” I snap. 

“Yeah? Was that an example of your skilled driving back there?” He asks.

“As a matter of fact it was.” 

“Then I’m just going to hang on to the weapon until we know if your weapon handling skills are any better than your defensive driving skills.” Mike quips.

“I crashed us on purpose!” I shout.

“Well, well done!” He shouts back.

“Uh…sir? We should keep our voices down.” Adams reminds us and I turn back to Donna who is shaking like a leaf.

“Come here, baby. Let me help you out.” I cajole her. She uses my arm to leverage herself out of our hole, but she winces in pain at every movement. Adams does a cursory inspection while Donna is safe within my arms.

He pulls out a syringe and Donna nearly comes out of her skin while she screams. Everyone startles. 

“Donna, it’s okay.” I murmur but she just keeps shaking her head ‘no’.

“Donna, this is just a pain reliever. It won’t knock you out. Josh here is going to hold you the whole time, okay?” Adams tries to reassure her but she has lost it. I can see it in her eyes.

“Maybe it would be better if it did.” I suggest quietly.

But Adams shakes off that suggestion. “Not with a head wound. Not until we can get a scan and determine she’s got no internal skull damage.” He puts his hand on Donna’s arm like he’s calming a skittish horse. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Your body has to be hurting all over. Let me give you some medicine to help with the pain.”

The wait is interminable, but she finally nods her agreement. She does, however, turn her head into my chest so she doesn’t have to watch when Adams gives her the injection. I can feel her body relax the instant the medicine enters her body. 

“You’re next.” He tells me and I roll my eyes. 

“I’m fine. I don’t need anything.” I assure him.

“A minute ago you said your arm hurt like hell.” Adams points out. And to think I was just starting to like this guy.

“I was exaggerating.” I reply quickly when he comes at me with the needle. “I exaggerate all the time. Ask Mike here, he’ll tell you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mike shrugs. I’m gonna kill him. “He’s positively stoic when it comes to pain. If he said it hurts like hell it must be really bad.”

“You’re a dead man.” I shoot back, but Donna pulls on my good arm.

“Josh. You’re hurting too. Let him give you the medicine.” She tells me so I immediately nod to Adams who injects the drug quickly and efficiently. She’s right, as usual. I do feel better.

“Let’s get you both into the vehicle. I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit of a rocky ride, but…” Mike trails off when Adams holds his hand up in protest.

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea.” Adams stops us. “I think we should wait for air rescue.”

“I don’t think waiting for air rescue is a good idea.” Mike counters and I pick up some tension between them.

“I understand your reasoning, sir, but please understand mine.” He meets Mike’s eyes. “Miss Moss has considerable injuries at least one of which is a bleeding head wound. We can have an air ambulance here in under 20 minutes.”

“Twenty…Adams!” Mike exclaims. 

“In the meantime, we get these two in the vehicle, warm and safe. If we’re unable to wait for air rescue, we take off in the vehicle.” Adams finishes and I can see Mike considering the plan.

“Wait a second! Why wouldn’t we be able to wait for the chopper?” I ask.

Mike and Adams exchange looks again. “If the injuries appear…” Adams begins.

“Bullshit.” I interrupt. “Why Mike?!” I demand and see Donna’s eyes go wide at my tone. “Son of a bitch. You don’t have him, do you?”

“Josh…” Mike tries to calm me but I’m afraid that ship has sailed.

“Jack?” Donna screeches. “You don’t have Jack in custody?!”

“Into the vehicle you two.” Mike orders.

“No.” I refuse.

“Josh, I’m not fooling around. Get your ass in the damn car!” Mike raises his voice too and for a moment we’re nose to nose in the dark night. “Now!”

I turn abruptly and almost upend poor Donna, but I follow his team to the vehicle. I have to nearly carry her the 100 feet or so to where a van is pulling up to meet us. He was out cold! How the hell could he escape?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, no, no, no….This can’t be happening. He was hurt and pumped full of drugs. It can’t be true. I must be dreaming again. That’s it. It’s a dream. A very bad dream; a nightmare.

“Donna?” Josh turns my body gently towards him. 

“I just want to wake up.” I whisper and see his face fall. I didn’t mean to make Josh sad. 

“We need to go…now.” Josh tells Mike who looks at Adams and then back at Josh.

“We’re going to give it a few minutes.” Mike sighs. “JUST a few minutes.”

“Where’s Ron?” Josh asks.

“He’s leading the other team.” Mike shares quietly.

The other team. The team that’s going to find Jack and kill him. Ron is very good. I’m sure Ron will shoot Jack. Then we’ll be fine. Then we’ll be safe.

“How about we do something constructive with our time while we wait?” Mike asks. “Tell us about what happened at the crash site.”

“I realized he was taking us somewhere to…kill us.” Josh sends me a cautious look. “Since Donna and I were buckled in and he wasn’t, I decided to try and crash us so we’d walk away and he wouldn’t.”

“That was smart, Josh, very smart.” Mike tells him. “What happened after you hit the tree?”

“He…uh…was unconscious but I felt a pulse. I got Donna out of the car and I took the gun out of his hand and this…thing he had to drug to Donna.” He produces the evil device and hands it over to Mike who hands it to Adams. Adams looks it over for a few seconds.

“It’s empty.” He announces. “We’ll test it to see what he was using.”

“I dosed him with it.” Josh admits. 

“How many times did you depress the trigger?” Adams asks.

“Once.” Josh replies.

“Did he use this on you at all Donna?” He asks me softly. 

I nod. “Once. It knocked me out…I don’t know for how long.”

“Maybe it was already empty when you injected him.” Adams speculates.

“Talk us through what you did next, Josh.” Mike requests

“God, Mike…” he pauses. “I…I opened the trunk. I took out his backpack and his suitcase and rifled through them to see what we might be able to use. We took some clothes and a blanket.”

“What else was in there?” Mike presses. “It’s important.”

“I don’t…” Josh looks at me again not wanting, I think, to describe the contents of the trunk to Mike in front of me so I do.

“There was gasoline, rope, a shovel and garbage bags.” I choke out. “He had a suitcase too. There were clothes, hair dye, and a manila folder in the suitcase.” Josh turns a surprised look at me. “I notice things.”

“I guess.” He replies and squeezes my hand. “Even if he wasn’t drugged from that contraption, how far could he get? He was hurt; hurt pretty badly.”

“He’s trained Navy. They’re taught all kinds of survival tricks.” Mike shrugs. “And though you and Donna didn’t know where the hell you were or where you were going, Jack presumably did and there’s a major highway two miles East of where you crashed.”

“So he what? Just hitched a ride and escaped?” Josh’s voice is getting loud again.

“For now, I’m comfortable with that and you should be too.” Mike warns him. “If he went East, as it appears he did, then he moved in the opposite direction you two took. Our biggest fear was that he’d get to you before we could. We had some trouble with the GPS signal for a bit and that delayed our appearance here tonight. What happened next, Josh?”

“Nothing.” Josh replies. “We started walking…slowly…until we found this hole in the wall.” He chuckles at his own phrasing. “I hid Donna inside until I could get some branches to cover the opening and hide us a bit from anyone walking by.”

“Not bad for a white collar worker, Joshua.” Mike gives him credit. “Anything else you remember?”

“No.” Josh answers simply. “Not until you guys showed up.”

“How about you, Donna? What do you remember?” Mike asks, touching my hand in an attempt to get me to look at him. It doesn’t work.

“I asked Josh to kill him. That’s what I remember.” I tell him dully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m seriously worried about both my friends, but since Josh is here with me, and Donna is still in her MRI scan, I can focus my attention on Josh. He was wrong about his arm, by the way; hairline fracture. They’ve set it, put a cast on it, and he’s got it in a sling, but he won’t take any more pain medication until Donna is done with her MRI. The attending physician gave me a brief summary of her injuries. They were extensive; pulled ligaments in her hip, bruises, lacerations, and at the very least, a concussion. I understand why Josh is concerned but he doesn’t seem to grasp the concept that his pacing is in no way helpful to Donna.

“Will you please sit down?” I ask again.

“If I sit down, I might fall asleep.” He replies as he casts another glance at the agents surrounding the waiting room.

“That is NOT necessarily a bad thing. I swear I will wake you the very second they wheel her back out.”

“No thanks.” 

“Josh…she’s safe. You’re both safe now. You don’t need to stand guard over her.”

“That’s what they said when they sent me to Mexico.” He scoffs. “Neither one of us is safe with that lunatic on the run.”

“He’s unarmed and wounded. He won’t get far.” I promise but he just continues to pace as Leo McGarry comes barreling down the hallway.

“Are you a sight for sore eyes!” He carefully hugs Josh and then looks him over carefully. “What, are you bucking for a job with this one now?” He asks, jerking a thumb over at me.

“No way.” Josh shakes his head. 

“The President sends his prayers for both of you.” Leo adds. “He wanted to come down here himself, but under the circumstances…”

“Right.” Josh agrees.

“What have you found out about Donna?” He asks.

Josh shrugs and I end up giving the Chief of Staff a run down on what we know so far. Leo looks grim at the news. “They’ve got the best doctors in the country here.” He notes but it falls on deaf ears with Josh.

The attending steps out into the hall and Josh pounces. “Where’s Donna?” 

“She’ll be out in a minute, Mr. Lyman.” He assures Josh. “Let’s sit down a minute.”

“Just…tell me.” Josh insists even as the doctor lowers him into a nearby chair and Leo hovers nearby. Leo has this ability to blend in to the point where you almost don’t notice he’s there until he speaks up. 

“Donna has a linear skill fracture.” He tells us point blank and Josh pales. “This is actually good news, relatively speaking. There is no intracranial bleeding, the blood is flowing normally through both hemispheres of her brain, and she doesn’t appear to have any cognitive function loss.”

“Okay.” Josh replies woodenly.

“However, I understand she lost consciousness?”

“Yes.” Josh nods.

“And experienced some dizziness?”

“Yes, but she’s been through an awful lot couldn’t it be a result of…”

“Of course.” The doctor interrupts him. “She’s been through significant trauma and that can lead to all kinds of symptoms, but brain injuries can also present that way, so we’re going to want to keep her here for the next 24 hours for observation. If nothing pops by then we’ll release her and send her home.”

“Pops?” Josh repeats.

“I mean, if she’s asymptomatic at that time.” The doctor amends his statement. “We also ran a tox screen and identified the drug the perpetrator used to subdue her. It’s a fast acting agent but its effects dissipate fairly quickly. She may have some shakiness and nervous system side effects while her body flushes out the drug, but we’ll try to keep her medicated and comfortable for the next few hours to negate that as much as possible. As for the trauma itself, we’re taking care of the lacerations and the bruising, but I think it’s vitally important that Donna be connected to one of our trauma specialists as soon as possible.”

“I’m already on it.” Josh tells him and the doctor just narrows his eyes. “Ever hear of Dr. Stanley Keyworth?”

“ATVA?” The doctor confirms. 

“Yeah…he’ll be here in the next eight hours to see Donna.” Josh promises. “Can I see her now?”

“She’ll be out in just a minute.” The doctor repeats. “Then we’ll bring her up to her room and you can stay there as long as you want…at least until she kicks you out.” He grins.

“Doctor…the skull fracture…”

“It’s a linear fracture which is the most common form of skull fracture and she’s showing no adverse affects from it at present.” 

“Right. Can someone get that from being hit by someone else?” Josh asks quietly.

“Not unless that someone is wielding a shovel.” The doctor explains. “Linear fractures are caused when the skull hits something solid, like a wall.”

“Or…a car window?” He asks woodenly.

“Exactly like that.” The doctor agrees. “I’ll be stopping up to check in on her in a few hours. If you need me before that, just have them page me.” He offers and leaves as quickly as he came.

“Josh…” I know where his brain is going and it’s not going someplace good. “You are not responsible for her injuries.”

Josh whirls on me! “I drove her car into a tree at about 45 mph! *I* drove the…” Josh slams his ‘good’ hand into the wall. I can see his body shake with anger and fear. “I drove the car into the tree causing her head to strike the window which gave her a linear skull fracture, Mike!” Josh’s head pops up to meet mine. “It’s my fault.”

“Bullshit!” I shout. I have to ramp my end up and stamp it out immediately or I’ll never be able to reel him back in. “You did the only thing you could to save her life! Save both of your lives…and it worked!” I point out. “Would you feel better if she were lying in one of those garbage bags dead but without the skull fracture?”

“Jesus, Mike!” He yells at me in horror at that thought.

“This is what I’m saying.” I grab his good arm to stop his motion. “You’re both alive and will recover just fine from the bumps and bruises you got from this little adventure. And did it ever occur to you that she may have sustained the fracture with Reese?”

“I’d rather not think about that, frankly.” Josh says quietly.

“I don’t blame you, but it could have happened then. What I’m saying is that the last thing Donna needs right now is you distancing yourself from her because you have some misplaced sense of guilt. Got it?”

“Yeah.” He nods and Leo sends me an eyebrow raised look like, ‘Stanley isn’t going to JUST be visiting Josh, right?’ I nod grimly in acknowledgment of his message.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, no, no…” I shake my head and try to back up further in the hospital bed. This woman is NOT giving me anything to make me sleep.

Agent Adams waves the nurse away from us. He’s hardly left my side since he found us in the woods. “Okay…she’s leaving now.” He directs the nurse to the door with a jerk of his head. “It’s really important for you to stay calm, Donna.”

“I’m better at staying calm when Josh is here.” I point out.

“He’ll be here any second.” Adams promises me. “They had to cast his arm and then he was waiting for you to get done in the MRI. Everything looks good there; just a small linear fracture.”

“Just.” I scoff and finally understand the terrible pounding in my head. One hand involuntarily lifts to massage my temples.

“Your head’s got to feel like it’s going to explode.” Adams says quietly as he turns down the lights in the room. “Let me have the nurse give you something to help you sleep.”

“No.” I refuse again. Where the hell is Josh? Then the door bursts open and I see him. “You look like hell.”

He smirks. “That’s what happens when I’m without you for awhile.” He crosses the room and takes my hand. “They tell me your hard head survived our trip in the wilderness.”

“You broke your arm?” My voice breaks a little and tears spill down my face. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop crying.

“Just a hairline thing.” He shrugs it off. He’s usually such a baby about things. Once he got a paper cut on a file and he made me…well, anyway, he’s not usually this brave. He wipes the tears off my face. “You look like you’re hurting again.”

“I’m okay.” I lie through my teeth.

“She needs some sleep but she won’t take the medication that will help her do that.” Adams tells on me.

“Donna…” Josh moans.

“I can’t go to sleep, Josh. I just can’t.” I try to explain.

“Your body needs to rest or it can’t heal. I’ll stay right by your side the whole time.” He promises. “Tell the nurse she’s ready, Greg?” Greg? Since when are these two on a first name basis? “Thanks for staying with her.”

“My pleasure. You’ve got quite a protective guy here, Donna.” Adams teases. “We may look at recruiting him from the west wing.” He tells me as he leaves us alone.

“I don’t want the meds, Josh.” I repeat crying again.

“Let me tell you what I learned while they put a cast on my arm.” He nudges me over a bit and sprawls out right next to me on the bed and carefully runs his fingers through my hair. “This lovely nurse explained that when the body is trying to heal from something, it needs to spend all its energy on the healing part. If it has to divide its resources between healing and fighting pain, then the healing takes much longer.”

“Lovely nurse?” I repeat the only part of the story that interests me.

“Very lovely…and my mother’s age.” He informs me. “She gave me these lovely Vicodin tablets which I refused at the time because I was afraid they’d knock me out before I could see you. So, here’s my deal. You take your meds, I take mine, and we both get some well deserved rest so our bodies can heal a little better.”

“Miss Moss?” The nurse tentatively sticks her head in the room. “You’re ready for some pain meds now?”

I don’t blame her for being cautious around me. It’s entirely possible what I was…unpleasant to her earlier. So I keep my mouth shut now and simply nod. She smiles and walks over to inject some medicine in my IV while Josh reaches over for the cup of water on the table next to the bed and pops a couple pills. When the nurse leaves, I can see the agents posted at the door. They should reassure me, and to an extent they do, but its Josh’s presence next to me that is the most reassuring. I fall asleep within seconds and don’t have a single dream.


	16. Countdown

I swim up through my medicine induced haze to a feeling I have missed desperately the last few days. Donna is curled against me with her head buried in my chest. She appears to be sleeping pretty peacefully. 

True, we haven’t been separated all that long, but the last 24 hours have been terrifying. I just feel better being able to touch her. Well, the last few weeks have been terrifying and it seems they’re not over yet. 

I can’t believe the secret service doesn’t have Jack. How could he get out of the car and go anywhere? I’m no expert, but I could have sworn there was something in that syringe. Maybe I should have just shot him. 

Donna stirs against me and opens her eyes then smiles lazily up at me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I’m trying to walk through a few feet of mud, you?” I might as well be honest.

“About the same.”

“How’s your thick head?” 

“Feels a little better.”

“Good.” I nod. 

“How long have you been awake?”

“I just woke up.” 

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” She frowns a bit. 

“You didn’t crack MY head, Donna. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I know.” She chuckles a bit. “But I did go `round the bend on you there for a bit and with all that was going on, that was the last thing you needed.” 

“Donna, I have no idea what you went through.” I say quietly, brushing her hair back from her face. “Half of me doesn’t want to know and the other half is consumed with wondering. But whatever it was, I’d bet everything I had when I say you’re entitled to lose it a bit.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” She whispers.

“It’s okay.” I nod quickly. “But you have to know that Stanley’s on his way. He’s probably here now.

“I figured.” 

“You’re the one who taught me you can’t handle it alone.”

“I guess it’s time to eat my words.” 

“You’ll feel better.”

“I feel better now.” She says and cuddles down into my chest again.

“Me too.” I smile. 

“What’s going to happen about Jack, Josh?” she asks the dreaded question. “What if he gets out of the country and lays low for awhile only to come back stronger and deadlier than before?” 

“He’s not going to get out of the country, Donna. They’ll be looking for him at the borders.”

“He could cross the border somewhere else. Like, he could run into the woods in upstate New York or something and cross the border there. They’d never know.” 

“If he runs into the woods in upstate New York, he’ll get lost in the Adirondacks.” I smile lightly at her. 

“You know what I mean!”

“Hardly ever.” I laugh at her pout. “Why doesn’t he just go to Northern Wisconsin? You can easily get to Canada from there, I hear.” 

“You’re going to snark me? NOW?!” 

“Yes.” I reply and kiss her on the tip of her nose. “I don’t like that Jack’s out there any more than you do, especially now that I have first hand knowledge of what he’s capable of and what his ultimate goal is. But, Donna, now that we know that it’s Jack, everyone is going to be looking for him; the President and Leo will make sure of it. He kidnapped and assaulted two federal employees and murdered your detail, all of which are capital crimes. He’s not going to get over the border; he’s injured, Donna, and I’m sure the hospitals are on alert.”

“You don’t think he’s at this one, do you?” she asks cautiously. 

“I think we’d know by now if he was and the secret service and FBI are crawling all over the joint.” I assure her. 

“He got through the secret service, Josh.”

“He won’t get through me.” I promise. And he won’t. If he gets her again, it will literally be over my dead body…which is a pretty good possibility now that I know what Jack is capable of…and that that is his ultimate plan.

“It’s just endless.” She whispers.

“It’s not.” I insist. “It’s ending now; I can feel it.”

“Are you clairvoyant now?” she smiles at me.

“I have a sense about these things.”

“You have NO sense about these things.” She laughs.

“Okay no, I don’t. But it is giving me something to look forward to.”

“It’d be nice to have something to look forward to again.”

“How about a vacation?” I offer.

“I don’t think they’ll let us take a vacation now, Josh.”

“No, I’m sure they won’t, but once they have Jack, we’re outta here.”

“Where?” 

“I remember you once pointing out that I’ve never taken you to Hawaii.”

“You have never taken me to Hawaii.” 

“I think you’d look hot in a grass skirt.” I whisper and pull her earlobe into my mouth. 

“Are you going to wear white pants and a Hawaiian shirt?”

“I’ll wear whatever you want.” I promise until I hear her chuckle. “Within reason!”

“You’re no fun.” She pouts. 

Just as I kiss her, the door flies open and CJ and Toby come in. CJ storms over to the bed and throws herself at us. “Oh my God!” she cries. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” I quickly extricate her from Donna and CJ looks at me strangely. “She’s a little banged up.” I say by way of explanation.

“Are you all right?” CJ asks Donna.

“Mostly.” Donna says quietly.

“I thought we were never going to see you two again.” CJ wipes away the tears from her eyes and I stifle the urge to squirm. CJ is tough as nails. I don’t know what to do when she gets…girly. 

“Well, if Jack has his way…” Donna trails off.

“What do you mean HAS?” Toby asks from his position where he’s hanging back a bit.

“They don’t have him.” I reply. 

“I thought you crashed the car.” CJ says.

“I did.” I nod. “But when the secret service and FBI got there, he was gone.”

“They’ll catch him.” CJ nods confidently. “They get everyone.”

“Eventually.” Donna ends. 

“I wouldn’t imagine he’s in any kind of shape to give you guys problems.” Toby says.

“If you were there, Toby, you wouldn’t imagine he was in any kind of shape to leave the car.”

“When do you get out of here?” CJ asks changing the subject.

“I’m not technically a patient anymore.” I reply. “Donna’s out of here later today as long as everything checks out okay.”

“Listen, don’t blow your stack….” CJ begins.

“This is going someplace hilarious.” I reply. PLEASE tell me the next words out of her mouth aren’t that the press knows about this.

“The First Lady has talked Ron Butterfield into letting you two convalesce in the Residence for now.” CJ says with a cringe.

Oh God. It’s SO much worse than the press knowing!

“No way.” I say shaking my head.

“Ron Butterfield agreed.” CJ shrugs.

“Why!?” I yelp. “We’re security threats!”

“I guess given Donna’s injuries, they’d rather have her in a place they’re sure they won’t need to move her from.” CJ replies. “Abbey’s mind is made up.” 

“How can we not have a say in this?”

“Nobody has a say in their life when the secret service is calling the shots.” CJ says quietly.

“Yeah, well it doesn’t sound like they’re calling the shots; it sounds like Abbey is.” I shoot back.

“It’s all right, Josh.” Donna says quietly. “It’ll be a nice change to be somewhere I feel completely safe in for once.” 

You could knock me over with a feather right now. I was so concerned with the mind numbing lectures from being a captive audience of the President that it hadn’t occurred to me yet that with Jack still out there, Donna may feel vulnerable at my place. 

“You realize he’s going to bore the shit out of us, right?” I say to her.

“You mean bore the shit out of YOU.” She counters. “I happen to find him fascinating and I don’t know about you, but I want to be able to tell our kids that I was a personal guest of the President of the United States.”

‘Our kids.’ I, of course, cave now.

“Well, you’ll have to make sure I stay awake then.”

“I think every now and then you need a gentle reminder that you’re standing in the middle of history and I think upon occasion you should sit back and embrace it.”

“I think you hit your head harder than they thought you did.” I counter and she rolls her eyes, but at least it looks like she’s temporarily sidetracked from the missing Jack…

…which doesn’t last long as the next person to enter the room is Mike. He comes in the room and after taking stock of its occupants, I suppose decides to stay.

“You’ve got your serious face on.” I note and feel Donna stiffen next to me.

Mike looks from Donna to me back to Donna and then back to me. “It’s about Jack…”


	17. Countdown

~Twelve hours earlier...~

Despite the fact it makes my head feel like it's going to shatter, I force my eyes open. What the hell happened? And why the hell am I face down on the floor of a backseat?

Then I remember...the car...Lyman.

That rat bastard.

I can't believe he crashed the car. I never thought he'd do anything to endanger his precious Donnatella. I underestimated him. I thought if he was out of his comfort zone and faced with a real life and death situation without the Secret Service to hide behind, he'd fold like a cheap suit.

I see now know that I never should have given him control of the car. I should have tied them both up and thrown them in the trunk until we got to our destination. Well, next time I won't make the same mistake. To make matters worse, my gun and the pressure syringe are gone. They must have taken them.

I really am going to kill Lyman...I mean I was going to before, but after I made him watch me kill her, I was going to make it quick. Now, it's going to be slow and very painful. In fact I think I will kill them BOTH in the most slow and painful ways I can think of. 

I somehow manage to sit up. Oh, God...I can't decide what hurts worse, my head or my ribs. But the wave of dizziness that goes through me makes me think it's my head. 

Once the dizziness passes, I look around the car. Well, shit. I'm alone and it's dark out. That means Lyman and that bitch are in the wind. I have no idea how long I've been out. They could be anywhere by now. 

Well, I've got to get moving. It won't be long before someone finds this car and when they do, the Feds and the Secret Service won't be far behind. I'm sure Agent Casper took the plate number down when he was in the car earlier. 

Since it's clear that the car's not going anywhere anytime soon, I'm going to have to dig up another car or hitchhike. This road is so isolated that I might have to walk a while before I can find either one. 

Dragging my ass out of the car I go around to the trunk which is standing open. Damn, I can see that Lyman has already rifled through the contents. Some of my clothes, my backpack, and a blanket are missing, but I'm relieved to see that the envelope is still inside the folder where I left it. It contains my fake I.D.s and other documents as well as my emergency stash of traveling money. Now, let's see if he found the other two things I stashed in the trunk. Lifting up the thin covering over the spare tire, I can't help but grin. 

There they are...my spare gun and extra ammunition.

Quickly, I slip both items in the front pocket of my suitcase and then set about repacking everything, being sure to include anything I might need from what's left in the trunk.

Then, like a gift from the gods, a set of headlights comes up the road and a battered, ancient pick-up truck pulls up next to the car. An equally ancient man climbs out of the cab and I come around the car to speak to him.

"You okay, son?"

"Yeah, an animal ran out in front of my car and ran off the road and hit this stupid tree," I tell him casually. It's a good story if I do say so myself.

"What brings you out here so late?"

Okay, already this guy is asking too many questions. I don't like questions. "I got turned around and made a wrong turn on my way to the highway."

"The highway?" the old codger hoots. "You're hell and gone from the highway, son."

Somehow I manage to keep myself from burying my fist in this guys face. His chatter is making my head throb with a renewed vengeance. "It's lucky for me that you came by then isn't it?" I reply keeping my voice controlled.

"You can say that again," he responded. "Not too many people come out this way this time of year, especially at night. This road only heads out to the lake and there's not much out there but some old vacation cabins and they're closed until the summer. I was headed out to a secret fishing spot for a little night fishing."

I could care less about fishing, old man. All I care about is the fact that I was going to use one of those vacation cabins to rid myself of my two biggest enemies and now that's all shot to hell.

I keep my expression friendly. "I must be livin' right then, I guess."

"You want me to call the sheriff and a tow truck?" 

Yeah, the sheriff, that's just what I need. "Actually I was hoping you'd be able to give me a ride into town, maybe take me to a hospital or something so I can get checked out. I think I banged my head when the car hit the tree."

He considers that for a moment. "The closest thing we have to that in these parts is a small hospital in Parkerville. Well, actually it's more of a clinic than a hospital, but I think they have a small ER that's staffed all night," he tells me. "I'd be happy to give you a ride; then I'll stop by the sheriff and let him know about your car." 

I can see that this guy is going to push the thing about the sheriff and I'm sorry to say that I just can't allow that. I can't have him talking to the authorities and leading them back to me. They'll find the car soon enough, but I need some time to get away. And this will also solve my problem of finding a vehicle.

"That's great," I tell him. "I've got some valuables in the trunk I'd like to take into town, do you think you could help me with them?"

"Sure, son, whatever I can do."

We walk to the back of the car and I pull out my suitcase. As I hand it to him, it blocks his view of my other hand which reaches into the trunk for the tire iron. When he turns away to carry the suitcase to the truck, I swing the tire iron back and bring it down cleanly on the back of his head. The sound it makes is a cross between a heavy thud and a crack and he goes down in a heap without so much as twitch. Just to make sure the job is done, I hit him one more time.

Picking up the suitcase from where he dropped it, I take it over and toss it in the truck. Coming back over to him, I check for his pulse and don't find any. I start to drag him over to the edge of the woods but the effort has my head and my ribs exploding with pain and stars dancing in my vision so I drag him to the far side of the car and push him underneath it. No one from the road will be able to see the body unless they walk around the car.

Without so much as a backward glance, I get into the cab of the truck. Luckily, the old man left his keys in the ignition so I won’t have to go through the trouble of going through his pockets. 

Starting the truck I pull away from the crash scene and head back up the road away from the lake. I don’t know my way around here very well, I only planned out the route to the cabins and then the way out to the interstate to make my get away. I didn’t plan on needing a fucking hospital and I don’t really know how to get to this “Parkerville” the old man mentioned. I’d skip the hospital all together if my head didn’t hurt so damn much.

To make things worse, my vision keeps wavering and my head and my ribs are having a competition to see which of them can hurt more. I’m sure I’m weaving all over the damn road like a drunk driver, but there’s no one else on the road so I should be okay. 

When the road comes to a “T”, I’m confronted with a multitude of blurry signs. Then again maybe it’s just a couple signs that I’m seeing in duplicate or triplicate and they’re not blurry, my vision is blurry. I blink hard and give my head a shake and they slowly condense into four signs. One of which is for Parkerville. Following the arrow, I turn and although it seems to take forever, eventually I see a sign welcoming me to town. 

Since it’s the largest building in town, which isn’t saying much, it’s not hard to find the hospital. Okay, so calling it a hospital, even a small one, is being too generous. The old man was right, it’s more of an urgent care clinic but I do see a sign that says there’s a doctor on duty so I find a spot at the edge of the lot and turn off the engine. I’ll have to walk farther but the truck won’t be seen as easily if someone should be looking for it. 

Reaching into the front pocket of my suitcase, I get the gun and make sure it’s loaded; then I shove it in one pocket of my jacket and the extra ammunition in the other. Hopefully I won’t need them, but I want to be prepared. Since I obviously can't tell them my real name, I also grab one of the fake I.D.s out of the envelope and put it in my wallet.

I make my way inside, no easy feat, given that I can hardly walk a straight line right now and I’m glad to see that except for a pretty, fresh faced young nurse sitting behind a wide desk, the waiting room is empty. Hopefully that will speed things along. Staying in any one place for too long is a bad idea.

I must look as bad as I feel because the nurse takes one look at me and rushes around the desk.

“Oh my, what happened to you?” she said guiding me into a small exam area off the main waiting room. 

“I swerved to avoid an animal in the road and my car hit a tree,” I explain. “A guy gave me a lift so I could get checked out.”

“Well, thank goodness for that,” she clucks sympathetically as I sit down on a gurney. “Let’s get your coat off and...”

“I can do it,” I snap before I can control it.

If she takes off my coat she might find the gun and that would lead to all kinds of questions I’m not willing to answer right now. The look on her face tells me I better cover it or she’s going to get suspicious.

I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s been a bit of a rough night.”

Apparently buying that, she smiles back. “Perfectly understandable.”

I lay the coat beside me on gurney, just as the doctor comes in. He's the perfect model of an old country doctor. "So who do we have here?" 

"Uh, my name's Darren Johnston," I lie, easily rattling off the name on my fake I.D. "My car got into a fight with a tree and lost."

"Yes, looks like you've got quite a bump on your head here."

He presses a bit too hard on the lump in question, causing pain to bloom so viciously that it's all I can do not to haul off and break his fingers. "I hit my head," I say through gritted teeth. "My ribs are pretty sore too."

"Let's get your shirt off and take a look." He says helping take my t-shirt off and I see ugly bruises have already started to stain the right of my chest. Lyman's going to pay for every one of them.

"I was hoping you might be able to give me something for the pain," I say with a hiss as he presses on my ribs and a new bolt of pain erupts. I swear, this guy is about as gentle as a tornado.

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Well, let's get you checked out and we'll see what we can do."

Despite the small size of this place, I'm surprised by the fact that it's also fairly well equipped. In addition to x-ray equipment, they also have a CAT-scan machine and they run me through both, even though I try to protest. I had no idea the exam would be this in depth. It's taking WAY too long and I'm starting to get a little nervous. Not to mention that they won't give me anything for the pain in my head and my ribs which still hurt like a bitch and it's really starting to piss me off.

The only plus I see is that the two of them appear to be the only staff in there building and there are no other patients besides me. That makes it easier to keep tabs on them.

The doctor comes back into the exam area and I don't like the look he's got on his face. It's a look that says he's got bad news. 

"Well, Mr. Johnston, you were right when you said that your car lost when it hit that tree. You have a concussion and three broken ribs."

"Okay, so what can you do about it?" I ask with a bit more impatience than is probably smart. 

He doesn’t seem fazed by my response. “You’ll need to be monitored for the next few days. We’ll keep you here tonight, but since we don’t have the facilities for a stay that’s longer than a few hours, in the morning we’ll transfer you to the regular hospital.”

No, no, no. That’s not going to work. I can’t lay around like I’m on some damn vacation. When the feds find that car or Lyman, whichever they get to first, they’re going to be sending bulletins out to every medical facility with the nearest 5 states with my face plastered on them. Fake I.D. or not, someone is going to make the connection and I’ll be in federal custody before you can say ‘Excedrin headache’.

“I really can’t stay that long,” I tell the doctor. “I’ve got important business I’ve got to take care of.”

“I’m afraid that will have to wait,” he tells me with a benevolent tone that I’m sure he generally uses on his more disagreeable patients. “We need to keep you under observation for that concussion. It could easily get worse.”

Well, screw his beneficence. I’m getting the hell out of here. “I know my rights, Doctor. As long as I’m conscious you can’t keep me here against my will. So just give me something for my headache and I’ll sign whatever release papers I need to sign and then I’ll be going.”

Now the doctor’s expression is halfway between surprised and annoyed. I’m guessing he’s not used to having his orders countermanded.

“Because of your head injury, I can’t give you anything. It could cause complications later on.”

Okay, I’m really getting tired of this guy. “The hell with complications, my head feels like it’s trying to explode!”

Our voices must be getting loud because right then the nurse comes in looking a little worried.

“Yes, I’m sure your head hurts quite a bit,” he agrees as I pull on my t-shirt. “That’s why you need to be under a doctor’s care for the next couple days. If we give you something strong enough to deaden the pain, it could hide other symptoms that would tell us if your condition was worsening.”

Even with a concussion I can see that this guy’s going to be a pain in the ass. “There’s nothing I say to change your mind?”

“No, Mr. Johnston, I’m sorry there isn’t.”

Well, clearly, that’s the end of our discussion. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I climb off the gurney and do my best not to sway when the world dips slightly under me as I fumble my jacket on. My hand slides inside the pocket and I feel the cool metal of the gun as it fits into my palm. Pulling my hand out, I raise the gun so they’ll see it and know that I mean business. 

“I’m going to make this very simple for you, Doc. If you don’t give me a very large bottle of something that will make my head stop throbbing like someone is beating on it like a base drum, I’m going to kill your nurse, then kill you and go find it myself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire time Mike has been recounting Jack’s suspected movements, Donna has pulled more and more tightly against me, as if she was trying to wrap me around her like a blanket. And now with her face buried against my neck, she’s got a death grip on my hand that's so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I wind up with bruises. But if it keeps her calm and gives her some comfort, I don’t mind. 

Mike’s voice is grave as he continues. “...so after he threatened the doctor and the nurse with the gun, they gave him what pain meds they had...which actually wasn’t a lot since they were a small facility.” 

“Where the hell did he get a gun?!” I ask Mike. “I took the only one we saw him with.”

“We’re still trying to figure that out. I’d say he either had a second one stashed in the car somewhere or it was the old man’s.”

Although I allow myself to feel a little satisfaction over the concussion and broken ribs Jack sustained in the crash, I want to kick myself for not searching the car more carefully before we took off. As for the old man’s death, the attack on the clinic, and my indirect part in both; that being that I didn’t do more to secure Jack so he couldn’t hurt anyone else, I shove it into the back of my head before the guilt can choke me. 

“So are the doctor and nurse okay?” I ask him.

“The doctor’s fine,” he says pointedly. “After they gave Reese the meds, he locked the doctor in a closet and left in the nurses Jeep.”

“And the nurse?”

Mike gives me a long look and I don’t think I’m going to like what he says next.

“He took her along...as his hostage.”

My eyes close tiredly for a moment. Yep, I was right, I didn’t like what he said one bit. Just how many lives is Reese planning to ruin before he’s finished? 

“Shit,” I mutter.

Mike lets out a sigh. Although the last twelve hours haven’t been as bad for him as they have been for us, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slept since I got back from Mexico, and he’s got to be running on fumes. 

“Yeah, that was pretty much our thinking too,” he tells us. “It definitely complicates things.”

“And you’re sure it was Jack at the clinic and not just some random drifter or something?” CJ puts in.

My first thought is that her question is a little dumb, but the funny thing is, I was just about to ask it too. It would be a pretty incredible coincidence if some random drifter just happened to turn up in a nearby clinic with a concussion, broken ribs, fake I.D. and a gun at about the same time Jack would have been in the same vicinity and in probably the same condition from the crash. 

Mike gamely answers anyway. “The doctor positively identified him and we have him on video from the surveillance camera facing the parking lot. We also found a truck at the edge of the parking lot that we traced to the old man.”

“So that’s how he got from the crash site to the hospital,” Toby surmises.

“Yeah, has to be,” Mike agrees. “There’s really no other explanation.”

I can’t manage to keep the sarcasm out of my voice as I ask the $64,000 question. “So wait, don’t tell me, let me guess, you have no idea where he is or where he’s going, right?”

Mike's expression doesn't change. “Actually we know exactly where he is.”

I blink in surprise and I feel Donna tense against me. That was the last thing we expected him to say. “You do?!”

"Following a hunch, I checked and the nurse's Jeep is fairly new," he explains. "She had Lo-Jack installed when she got it."

It’s the first break we've had for a while and I can’t help but be encouraged. "You're kidding." 

"No. When we confirmed it, we activated the system. As long as they stay with the car, we'll be able to follow them."

"Do you think there's a chance he'll figure it out and ditch the car?" CJ asks. 

"I'd be surprised if he did. He's got a concussion so I doubt he's thinking all that clearly right now," Mike points out. "And even if it occurs to her, I can't imagine the nurse would mention it to him. She has to know it's her best chance of being rescued."

I have to admit, he has a point. "So what's the plan?"

"Right now, they're still moving so we're following them at a safe distance until they get to a location we can secure without risk to others and a minimum of risk to the hostage. Then we'll move in on him."

"Okay..." I say with a nod. I don't know what else to say. I'm almost afraid to hope that it will be as easy as Mike makes it sound, but with a hostage involved, nothing is sure. Apparently, everyone else feels the same way, because an odd silence falls over the room.

CJ and Toby exchange glances. "Well, we're gonna...go," she says awkwardly.

It means a lot to me that they came down here. “Thanks for coming guys." 

"We're just glad you're both okay. We were pretty worried and wanted to see for ourselves you were all right.” She grins. “And I wanted to see your face when I told you about staying in the residence. I knew you’d be thrilled.”

“Understatement of the year,” I grumble. “Say, before you go, how’s the press on this whole thing?”

“Not bad, pretty much on our side. Mostly concern for you and Donna, and getting the word out about Jack so his face is everywhere. You’ll probably have to get past a gamut of photographers when you leave the hospital though. After talking to Mike and Ron Butterfield, we’re following their recommendation and we’re only giving out the barest details at this point. But when you’ve got dead secret service agents, kidnapped and injured White House personnel, including the deputy chief of staff and now a kidnapped nurse, it’s impossible to keep a lid on it. They’re digging up most of the details on their own, which isn’t too tough given the fact that the manhunt that covers the eastern half of the country and involves nearly every law enforcement agency in the nation.”

While overall, what she tells me is good news, I didn’t like the part about having to face the photographers on the way out of the hospital. Donna had already been through so much, having her battered face splashed across the TV and the papers was the last thing she needed. I made a mental note to talk to Mike and Ron about someway to slip her out of the hospital, even if I have to act as a diversion for the press.

“Okay, thanks,” I tell her. “Keep me posted if anything comes up on that front. I’ve had about all the surprises I can stand for a while.”

“Will do,” she says with a nod.

She starts to walk out but Toby lingers for a moment jiggling the change in his pocket as if struggling to find something to say. Given that Toby, among his many hats, is a presidential speech writer...the idea that he can't find the right words is kind of weird.

"If you guys need anything...just...let us know," he finally says with a concerned glance at Donna.

See that’s the thing about Toby. Most people, those who don’t know him, would describe him as gruff and often standoffish, even scary. But the truth is, he actually feels things very deeply and for those he really cares about, he doesn’t mind showing a softer side. I figured out long ago that he has a huge soft spot for Donna. Then again, most people do. She just engenders that kind of response in people.

"Thanks, Toby. We will," I promise.

As Toby and CJ are leaving, I see Mike's eyes flick from me to Donna as if he's assessing something. 

"Donna...?" he says quietly. "Can I ask you some questions?"

She doesn't move, but I can tell she's awake and listening. I've felt a growing wetness on my neck and I know she's been crying silently, just like she did in our 'cave' last night. Carefully, I maneuver my arm and its cast out of the sling so I can run my hand gently over her shoulder and down her arm.

"It's okay, Donna," I coax her softly. "He just wants to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk," she whispers back.

"I know you don't. If I was in your place, I don’t suppose I would want to either," Mike says sympathetically. "But I'm hoping you might be able to tell me something that can help us end this situation and save the nurse. She's an innocent bystander in all this and I want to do what I can to help her.”

"Mike..." I warn. 

I know he’s got his job to do, but my job is looking out for Donna and it’s unfair for him to play the guilt card on her. Despite the fact that none of this is her fault, I imagine her personal guilt dance card is already full. 

To my surprise, I feel her shift and she raises her head slightly. “I don’t know what I can tell you,” she says quietly.

Looking down at her, I see her eyes and nose are red rimmed from crying. I pull a tissue out of a small box on the bedside table and hand it to her. She gives me a tiny but grateful smile and I feel about ten feet tall.

"What do you think Reese will do with her?" Mike asks as gently as he can. "Do you think he'll hurt her?"

"I don't know," she says wiping her nose. "Maybe if she tries to get away. That made him really angry." She shivers a little. 

I ran my hand over her back. "It's okay, Donna. He can't hurt you now." 

She lets out a breath and I feel her settle a little as she continues. "Since he can't drug her, he may tie her up so he doesn't have to worry about her trying to escape. But I don't think he'll hurt her otherwise." She glances up at me and then back to Mike. "When he hurt me it was very personal."

"Would her use her as a shield?" he asks.

Donna seems to consider that. "Maybe...if he's cornered and feels like he doesn't have a choice. Then again, I might not be the best one to ask," she hedges. "I never would have thought he'd kill an unarmed old man either."

"Well, right now you're my Jack Reese authority, so anything you can tell me would be helpful," he says giving her a winning smile. 

The smile gives me a sudden and irrational urge to hit him. Don't get me wrong, Mike's a good guy and I have the utmost respect for him. I even count him among my friends, which is saying something in a town of back-stabbing sycophants. But I also remember the time I overheard him tell Donna he'd be hitting on her if there wasn't so much going on. Although my brain logically knows that right now he's just being charming to try and coax and disarm her into giving him information, the reptilian brain stem, caveman part of me wants to growl at him that she's mine and he needs to go find his own woman.

"Well, I'll tell you what I can." Donna replies.

"That's all I ask," Mike tells her with another punch-in-the-nose inducing smile. "Now even though we're following him, it would help if we knew where he was going. Did he give either of you any idea where he was ultimately planning to go?"

"He didn't say anything to me," I tell Mike. "He just told me to drive and gave me directions as we went. I think he wanted to keep me guessing." 

When Donna doesn't say anything, Mike prompts her. "Donna?"

"Well, he didn't exactly confide in me, either" she tries to tell him.

"I know, but think hard Donna, you were with him the longest," he says. "Was there anything, anything at all he said that could give us a clue?"

"I think..." I feel her grip tighten on my hand. "...he was planning on leaving the country when he was done."

"Good," Mike encourages. "What else?"

"That's all." 

"That's all?" he repeats.

"Yes, that was all he said."

"You're sure there wasn't anything else?"

I feel her tremble again, but when she speaks I realize it's not because she’s sad or scared. It's because she's all but vibrating with anger.

"Yes, Mike, that's ALL!" she practically spits at him. "Because when he wasn't busy hitting me or trying to strangle me, he was telling me in great detail how he was going to kill me while Josh watched! Then he was going to shoot Josh in the head and for his grand finale, my ex-boyfriend was going to dump our bodies in the woods!" she says, her voice rising with each word. "So I'm sorry if I was too busy trying to stay alive to think to ask him about his future plans!" 

With that, she wraps her arms around me, buries her face against my chest, and dissolves into sobs.

Mike looks taken aback. He's probably never heard her raise her voice before, much less yell or cry. I have to admit that her actions are a bit out of character for her, she's not one to cry easily, but if anyone has earned the right to lose it, it's Donna. I imagine being a tough, badass FBI guy he'd probably rather face a crazed, armed fugitive than a crying woman. Usually, I'd be the first to agree with him there, but right now I'm just glad I can be the one to hold her when she needs someone.

"Okay, I think that's all I need for now," Mike says, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry if I pushed too hard, Donna. I'm just trying to get all the information I can."

Her only answer is to continue to cry. "She knows," I tell him. 

Mike nods. "Well, I'll keep you guys informed if we have any more news."

I try to give him a reassuring smile. "Thanks."

He walks out, closing the door behind him and we're finally alone. In low, soft tone, I try to comfort her as I stroke my hand over her back. "It's okay, Donna." 

Much to my relief, her sobs begin to slow and she mumbles something into my chest. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

She turns her head slightly so her voice isn't muffled. "I said it feels like nothing will ever be okay again."

My heart squeezes almost painfully at her words. I brush some hair away from her face and kiss her temple. "Just give it some time...give yourself some time. Things are going to work out, you'll see." I say, hoping I'm not lying to her.

"I should apologize to Mike," she says quietly with a little sniffle. "I don't know why I got so angry, he's just doing his job."

"Don't worry about it. You're exhausted and you've had a lot to process in the last few days." Now there's the understatement of the year. "That would put anyone on edge. He knows that."

We lie there like that for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything. More than anything, I think we're both trying to draw strength from the fact that we're safe and back in each others arms. I feel her take a breath and then let out a shaky sigh.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask her.

"That poor old man," she says in a trembling voice that tells me she's on the verge of crying again. "He just stopped to help and Jack killed him. His death is on my head."

"Hey, that's not true," I interject.

"Yes, it is," she argues. "And if anything happens to the nurse that will be on my head too."

"No, Donna, the Secret Service agents and the old man and the nurse and everything else are on Jack, not you."

"But Jack wouldn't be in our lives at all if it weren't for me dating him in the first place."

"Well, if we're using that as our criteria, the real credit for Jack should go to me then."

"You?" she says in surprise. "How is Jack your fault?"

"I didn't sabotage your dates with him like I'd done with all your others in the past. Hell, I even did everything I could to talk him into going out with you the first time," I point out, feeling angry with myself. "If I'd just followed my first instincts and done what I usually do with the guys you date, this wouldn't have happened."

I expected her to dispute my logic, but she's quietly thoughtful for a long moment. "Why didn't you?"

I frown, not quite understanding her question. "Why didn't I what?"

"Sabotage my dates with Jack?"

Wow, okay, that's a really good question and I have to think a moment before I answer.

"Because I had Amy then and I didn't think it was fair to keep you from having someone too," I tell her quietly, a little ashamed of the truth. "Before that I wanted you, but I didn't think I could have you and I didn't want some gomer to steal you away from me before I had my chance." I let out a breath. "I know that wasn't exactly the mature way to handle things, but..."

"It worked for us..." she finishes. "I never told you this, but usually when I was done being irritated with you for sabotaging my dates, I was glad you had." She pauses for a moment. "You were right, Josh, they were gomers. I only went out with them because I couldn't have you."

I blink at her honesty and I want to kick myself for all the time we've wasted. Leaning down, I touch my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. When I pull back, I can't help but grin at her.

"Well, good. Because from now on you're stuck with me and thank God, I'm stuck with you." 

She grins back at me and I realize that somewhere down deep I had worried that this thing with Jack was going to threaten my fragile new relationship with Donna. But I see now that our relationship is not so fragile. While I recognize that there are still hurdles we need to get over and the thing with Jack is not finished, I know without a doubt that we're going to come through it stronger than we were going in. Tucking some hair behind her ear, I sober a bit.

"Donna, whatever small part you and I played in this whole drama we need to not lose sight of the fact that, ultimately, Jack's the one that's doing the killing and kidnapping," I tell her. "We didn't make him do it. They're all his choices and his bad decisions and he's going to have to live with the consequences." 

She looks at me for a long moment and then nods slowly in agreement. "I just hope that no one else has to die for those consequences."

I press another kiss to her temple. "Yeah, me too."


	18. Countdown

“Absolutely not.” I spit out at Mike.

“Josh…” This comes from Donna.

“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” I continue shouting at Mike and ignoring Donna. We haven’t even made it to the White House yet and he’s suggesting…

“Just hear me out a minute.” Mike requests and I’m about to give him a resounding ‘no’ when Donna pulls on my arm and urges me to sit back down next to her.

“We helicopter you out there. We’ll have snipers in place. When he tries to make the exchange between Donna and the nurse, we take him out before Donna ever gets near him.” Mike is only addressing me right now. I think it’s because he knows if I say ‘no’ there’s no way he gets Donna to agree. There’s no way I say ‘yes’. Mike can see that in my eyes now, so the dirty bastard turns directly to Donna.

“There’s no way the nurse lives if we don’t try this.” He tells her and she immediately tears up and nods her assent.

“Donna!” I object.

“Mike, get whatever we’re going to need ready and let me talk to Josh a minute.” She directs him. I glare at him until he’s out of the room.

“You can’t possibly…” I begin.

“You’re right.” She interrupts me and her agreement knocks me off my game.

“I am?”

“You usually are.” She smiles. “I’m not responsible for this nurse being taken hostage; only Jack is responsible for that. But if I don’t try to help now, and this woman dies? I’ll never get over it, Josh. I won’t be able to look myself in the mirror.”

“Donna…” I whine as a last ditch effort. I should have known THAT wasn’t going to work.

“Will you come with us?” She asks hesitantly and my eyes snap up to hers.

“Will I?” I laugh. “You and I will be handcuffed together until this is over! Do you have any idea how foolish this is? Why can’t they just use a double for you?”

“Jack would know.” She states quietly and I’m reminded of how…intimately Jack Reese knows Donna and that only makes me angrier. She seems prepared to take my anger on that score too, and that makes me cool off instantly.

“I want you to promise me something.” I request and she looks back at me with eyes narrowed. “After this is over, and Reese is rotting in some prison cell awaiting the death penalty for killing Federal Officers, you and I are going to take some time and go away for awhile; just the two of us.”

“How would we do that with your schedule?”

“I’ll quit.” 

“Josh!”

“I mean it, Donna. You’re that important to me. I don’t think it will come to that, but if it does, I’d quit in a heartbeat. We’re both going to need some down time away from work and the press to recuperate. Promise me?”

“Okay.” She puts her hand in mine and seals our deal with a brief kiss. I do not have a good feeling about this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel completely calm. I know I should be a nervous wreck. Maybe it’s the drugs they’ve been giving me, but I feel completely calm. Now Josh on the other hand, is sending off enough nervous energy to power up a small city. We’re both wearing bullet proof vests despite Mike’s assurances that they’re completely unnecessary. 

Our helicopter just landed and Josh is doing his bouncy thing next to me while the hostage negotiator is bringing us up to speed. His name is David and he’s all business; tossing information right and left as we walk closer to the small gas station Jack has taken over. It’s literally in the middle of nowhere; the only building around for miles. There’s a bevy of police and emergency vehicles surrounding it. Apparently, he stopped here for gas and when the FBI moved in, he dragged the nurse inside the station and has been holed up in there ever since.

“He’s holding Debbie, the nurse, hostage inside, but he let the station employee out without any trouble. He also seems to be easily confused, which could be a side effect of the injuries he sustained in the crash earlier, or just another symptom of the psychosis he’s been suffering from. Was he confused when you were with him earlier?” David asks.

“He was bat shit crazy. Does that count?” Josh offers.

“Jack was certainly acting paranoid and crazy, but he wasn’t confused about what he was doing or why he thought he was doing it.” I add.

“Then he’s probably dealing with some effects of a concussion or other head injury.” David reports to his sidekick then turns back to us. “He’s going to insist you come inside the station to talk to him; that it’s the only way he’ll let Debbie go. You don’t promise anything or agree to any of his conditions. Mention Debbie’s name as often as possible and tell him you want to help him, but keep it focused on getting him to bring Debbie out.”

“Okay.” I agree.

“What do I do?” Josh asked.

“Nothing. He doesn’t want to see your face or hear your name; it escalates him.” David reports.

“He’s used to that reaction, aren’t you Joshua?” I snark and Mike chuckles.

“We’re going to put you on the speakerphone with him now. Anything he doesn’t like, just blame it on us. The FBI won’t let you do this or that The FBI won’t let you cross the crime scene tape, etc. Got it?”

“I think so.” I nod.

“Anything you’re not clear on, look over at me for a cue.” David tells me before he signals someone to put the call through and we hear the sound of the call ringing in the van we’re sitting in just outside the station.

“Yeah?” Jack answers and just hearing his voice erases all my calm. I feel my hands shake and push them into my jacket pockets but not fast enough for Josh to miss the move. Why does he have to pick now to get all perceptive on me?

“Jack? I’ve got Donna here.” David announces.

“About damn time. Send her in here.”

“We already discussed this, Jack. We’re concerned about Debbie’s safety. If you want to speak to Donna then you need to send Debbie out.”

“If you want Debbie to stay alive you need to send Donnatella in.” Jack shoots back. He doesn’t sound too confused to me.

“And give you two hostages?” David replies. “They’d take away my negotiators badge, Jack. Give me a break. Tell you what, I’ll let you speak to Donna as soon as you bring Debbie to the window so we can see she’s unharmed.”

“So you can shoot me through the window? That wouldn’t be very smart of me, would it?” Jack counters. 

“Then we’re at an impasse.” David says resignedly and I look at him in panic.

“I don’t care about this bitch!” Jack shouts, clearly distressed. “All I want is Donna. I’ll let this one go as soon as Donna comes in, I swear. Just send Donna in. Then we can go back to Italy and everything will be fine!”

Okay, maybe I was wrong and Jack is a LITTLE bit confused.

“Not while Debbie is still in there.” David remains firm and there’s a long pause.

“How do I even know Donna’s there?” Jack asks suspiciously. David nods at me to speak.

“Jack…? It’s me Donna.” I say tentatively afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.

“Where are you?” He asks me.

“Just outside the station in the blue van.” I answer once David again nods permission.

“Step outside so I can see you’re really there.” Jack demands, but David shakes his head ‘no’. I think I get this.

“The FBI won’t let me do that until they see that Debbie is okay.”

“They just want a chance to shoot me, Donna. They don’t want us to be together.” Jack whines.

“They don’t care about us, Jack. They just want Debbie out safely.” David nods again. “Let her walk to the window alone and wave to us so we can see her.”

Jack tersely directs Debbie to walk to window and tells her specifically what he’ll do to her if she tries to run for the door. She whimpers, but a few seconds later we see her at the window and although she’s obviously distraught she appears to be physically fine. She quickly returns to Jack who then demands I make an appearance.

“You won’t be able to see me, Jack.” I counter trying to coax him to the window.

“I’ll be able to see you. Just step in front of the building.” He assures me. David puts the phone on mute. 

“This is good. This tells us he’s moved her from the storeroom to the office. The office has security cameras that monitor inside and outside the building.” David reports.

“That’s good?” Josh interjects. “It’s going to make sneaking up on him rather difficult isn’t it?”

“Not if he’s focused on something else.” David replies. 

“I think you mean, someONE else.” Josh says snidely.

“It’s just a few steps out of the van.” David turns back to me. “You’ll be covered the entire time. He’s going to have to come out in the open if he wants to hurt you, and that would allow us to take him out. You’ll be in no danger.”

“Yeah…no!” Josh laughs. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“He just needs to see her, be distracted by her for a few minutes.” David rebuts. 

I settle the matter by stepping out of the van myself. David wasn’t kidding about me being completely covered. I’m surrounded by FBI Agents, including Mike. David and Josh are right behind me. David has the phone and pushes Josh way out of view.

“I’m outside the van now Jack.” I tell him.

“I can’t see you.” He complains. Mike whispers to only move a foot or two at a time. I’m assuming they want to determine what Jack’s view includes. So I take a small step further away from the van.

“How about now?” I ask him, but he still denies being able to see me. We repeat the process 4 more times before he shouts.

“I can see you!” He sounds happy. “You’re really here.”

“I told you I was. I’ve never lied to you, Jack.” I answer calmly.

“No, you don’t lie, Donnatella.” He answers quietly. “It was that son of a bitch Josh Lyman! He used both of us and now look what happened! All this is his fault.” He flies into a rage and I almost drop the phone. David gives me a reassuring nod.

“He won’t interfere this time.” I promise.

“Of course he will!” Jack shouts. “He’s a controlling bastard. He has to be pulling the strings of everyone around him. I’ll bet he’s there now. Isn’t he? ISN’T HE?!”

David shakes his head ‘no’.

“No. he’s not here, Jack. The FBI wouldn’t let him come.” 

“God, he’s making you lie again.” Jack whines. “He has to leave Donna or we’re never going to be happy together. Don’t you see? Bad things will just keep happening to us.” 

“Jack, Josh isn’t here and he won’t interfere…” I break off in shocked silence when there’s a gunshot and a female scream. “Jack? Jack, what have you done to Debbie?”

“It’s not your fault, Donna. It’s Lyman’s. He has to see what happens when he makes you lie for him, when he’s too much of a coward to face me himself.” Jack says all calm again. He’s SO creepy. Josh is now pushing to get next to me.

“What did you do, Jack?”

“I shot her in the foot.” Jack answers glibly. “If you lie for him again it’s going to get a lot worse for her. Make him come stand by you. I want to see him. I want to talk to him.”

David shrugs at his team and Josh is by my side in an instant. “Hear her crying, Lyman? That’s because of you and your lies. It’s all your fault. Donna is with ME now. Understand? She’s always wanted to be with me, you just tricked her. Once we get back to Italy everything will be fine.”

I can see the temples in Josh’s forehead pulsing. He reins it in though. “I got it, Jack. She’s all yours. Neither of you are worth my time.”

“How’s it feel to lose, Lyman? I don’t think that’s a feeling you’re familiar with.” Jack laughs. Okay, Josh isn’t going to be able to hold it together much longer so I jump in again.

“Jack, Debbie is hurt now. She needs medical help. Send her out so we can be together. They won’t let me go inside until Debbie comes out.” I plead.

“They’ll try to hurt me as soon as she’s out.” Jack whines some more. These mercurial mood swings are making my head pound too. “They’re trying to keep us apart. These guys all work for Lyman.”

We’re really going to have to explain to him that the DCOS does not control the FBI at some point, but I’m thinking that lesson would be lost right now and cost Debbie another gunshot wound.

“I won’t let them. Look, I’m walking closer to the building. As soon as Debbie walks out, I’ll come right in and these guys will go.” I promise and see David roll his eyes and Josh’s eyes widen in alarm. I have great peripheral vision, what can I say? But I take three or four more steps forward. Through the plate glass window I see the office door open. I can barely make out Jack’s profile, mostly hidden behind a weeping, limping nurse who has to be living her worst nightmare right now.

“That’s right, Jack. Bring Debbie out. I’m waiting for you.” My eyes are trained on the office door and the two figures silhouetted there, but I can feel movement behind me. I ignore it as best I can and keep talking to Jack. “I can’t wait to leave this awful place and get to Italy. It will be so wonderful.” I’m imagining a canal in Venice but my companion has dimples and his mental faculties are all intact…or mostly intact. “Can you teach me Italian, Jack? My mother used to try to teach me, but I couldn’t pick it up before.”

“I can teach you Italian.” Jack assures me, his breathing heavy as he carefully maneuvers closer to the door. “Come closer now.”

I take a couple more steps forward and stop. “I don’t want you to hurt Debbie, Jack. Debbie has no part of this.”

“Then don’t let them make me hurt her, Donna.” His tone becomes more strident. “Make them stay far back and far away from us. They need to put those weapons down too.”

I sigh and turn toward the agents behind me. “You heard him. Step back and put your weapons down. He won’t hurt either of us as long as you stay out of this.” I wait until they comply and turn back to Jack. Josh is now pacing next to the van keeping his eyes trained on the glass window. “Okay. They did as you asked, Jack. Time to bring Debbie out.”

“Nuh-uh.” I can see him shake his head no as he speaks. “You come in and then she can walk out.”

“Let her walk alone to the door, Jack.” I beg and start to cry. “I don’t want Debbie hurt because of me. It will ruin things between us.”

“Then get your ass in here!” He shouts and I flinch. Without looking back, I take a few more steps toward the door. I’m about 10 feet away now.

“Donna…” I hear Josh’s low warning growl.

“I’m coming, Jack, but you have to meet me half way here.” I can see him inching toward the door using Debbie as his shield. I can see his plan now. He meets me at the door and swaps me for Debbie there. Shit. His gun barrel is braced on the side of her head and she’s whimpering.

He’s no longer close enough to the phone to communicate with it. So I turn mine off and toss it on the ground. Then I hear David’s voice quiet and strong behind me. He must be on the ground to my right somewhere. 

“A team is coming through the storage room door now. Move slow. When I say down, hit the floor as fast as you can.”

I wonder briefly if fainting would be fast enough. Josh must be having several farm animals behind us. That image makes me smile for a moment and the smile, seems to reassure Jack who smiles back. We’re both almost to the set of double doors now. Debbie has her arms out in front of her. I try to smile at her too, but it might come off as slightly crazed. At this point, who could blame me?

“Open the door, Donna.” Jack directs me. I slowly open the door closest to the side of the building and furthest from where Jack is standing. He sighs like I’m retarded. “The other door.”

“Let Debbie out now, Jack. These people will take her and go.”

“I want Josh out here first.” Jack says quietly. No, no, no…this was not part of our deal.

“Josh isn’t part of this anymore, Jack.” I try to reason.

“He’ll ALWAYS be a part of this until I make that impossible for him.” Jack explains. “He has to be removed from the equation so he never bothers us again.”

“He won’t, Jack. I swear he won’t. Let’s just go now. You and me.” I beg and take step into the doorway. “See I’m right here. We don’t need to hurt anyone else.”

“You still care about him!” He accuses and shakes his head. “See? As long as he’s still alive, you’ll still care about him and you’ll never be able to give your whole heart to me!”

“I won’t be able to give my whole heart to you if you do this now. Let Debbie go.” I take another step inside. I’m two feet from Debbie now who’s shaking violently now; from shock or fear, I can’t tell and I guess it doesn’t really matter.

“Get out here, Lyman or I’ll kill them both you coward!” Jack screams out the open door and Josh instantly appears in our view.

“If this is how you treat the women you love, no wonder you’re alone.” Josh spits back. Jack flies into a rage and fires repeatedly at Josh who goes down like a domino. 

“No!” I shout and start to turn back to Josh when I hear David shout “Down!” Without even thinking I grab both of Debbie’s outstretched hands and pull her down with me.

Jack hears the men moving in behind him and gets off a couple shots at them before he turns the gun back towards Debbie and I on the floor. 

“It didn’t have to be like this, Donnatella.” He says sadly before he puts the gun to his own head and fires. Debbie and I both scream and shield ourselves as best when can from the results. I honestly don’t know who is shaking worse now. I want to get up and run to Josh, but I can’t move. I feel a hand on my back and literally jump.

“It’s David, Donna. You’re okay. You’re both okay.” David assures us. 

“Josh?” I whisper.

“Ready to tear my team apart to get to you. What do you say we go join him so he can see you’re okay with his own eyes and stops fighting with my people?” I nod and he gently helps me up, but he’s careful to turn me away from where Jack’s body is lying on the floor and shields me from the sight. He’s a good guy, David. Two other agents are helping Debbie to her feet and one ends up carrying her out of the building to the ambulance waiting for us both. David opens the door and Josh nearly leaps on me.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” He’s holding me a foot away from him while he visibly surveys me for damage.

“I’m fine. What about you?” Josh pats his bullet proof vest.

“I feel like I got sucker punched but not so much as broken skin from it.” He smiles and pulls me to him tightly. “God, Donna, were you trying to give me a heart attack out here?”

“Me?” I pound on his back shouting. “What about you, stepping out into that madman’s line of fire?”

“He was threatening to kill both of you. What the hell was I supposed to do?” He shouts at me.

“Hey!” Mike interrupts our shouting match. “We’ve got someone actually injured here and I’m sure she’d appreciate you putting your Punch and Judy act on hold until she’s taken care of.”

We both turn contritely to Debbie; the only one of us injured and the only one completely innocent in this whole ordeal.

“She’s got a couple broken bones in her foot. We’re going to need to take her to the hospital for X-rays and to have it set.” One of the EMT’s reports.

“I’m so sorry, Debbie.” I drop to my knees so I’m at her eye level where she’s half sitting on the gurney. 

“We’re sorry.” Josh joins me. “You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. And now you’re hurt. What can we do to help?”

“They just gave me some wonderful drugs.” Debbie tells us. “But I need to call my husband and tell him I’m okay.”

Josh grabs Mike’s cell from where it’s clipped to Mike’s belt. “What’s the number?”

I sit next to her on the gurney and rub her shoulder while Josh dials and puts the phone on speaker. We don’t know each other at all. Never even exchanged words with each other before we got into this ambulance, but we’re the only two people on the planet who know what it was like to be in that station with Jack waving his gun at us. We’ve bonded.

The number barely rings once before a frantic man answers. “Deb?”

Debbie laughs and cries at the same time. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m fine, Alan.” 

“It’s Mommy. She’s fine.” Alan relays to his children who are whooping for joy in the background. It makes me cry. I’m not sure if it’s with relief or with the thought of having to make this call with a different end result in mind. Josh wipes the tears off my face with a gentle finger and we share a grateful look that things turned out relatively well for all concerned. “When are you coming home? Can we come get you?” Alan asks.

“Ummm…” Debbie turns a panicked look at me, which I interpret as ‘what do I tell him?’. 

“Sir, this is Agent Casper with the FBI.” Mike intervenes. “Your wife has some minor injuries that we’d like to have checked out at the hospital. We have an Agency vehicle parked outside your home. Could our Agents give you and your children a ride in to meet Debbie there?” Mike asks making the gunshot wound sound like a skinned knee. He’s good, our Mike.

“Okay.” Alan relents. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m just a little shaken up, you know?” Debbie half laughs/half sobs. “I can’t wait to see you and the kids!”

“Us too.” Alan admits. “We’ll get in the car right now.”

“Perfect.” Debbie tells him. “I love you!”

“I love you too. We’ll be right there.” Alan says before the call disconnects. 

“I love him so much. You have no idea.” She says to me. I look over at Josh.

“I have some idea, I think.” I reply as Josh leans in to kiss me. 

“Okay, okay, break it up. We need to get Debbie to her family. You two are being requested back in the van with David and his team.” Josh kisses me again just to piss Mike off then carefully pulls me to my feet and we walk over to the van together; carefully averting our eyes from the people taking pictures of the crime scene. I just want to go home.


	19. Countdown

(Epilogue)

I slide into the lake sized marble tub and let the steamy, scented water envelope me. My eyes close and I let out a sigh as I feel myself relax. As the heat begins to seep into my body, I can't help but think back to the events that brought me here...brought me and Josh here.

That terrible day at the gas station was nearly three weeks ago. And while Josh and I both met with Stanley Keyworth and Jack is permanently out of our lives, that day and the days and weeks before that when he terrorized us still cast a long shadow. 

While I'm beginning to be able to sleep without having a nightmare every time I close my eyes, I still find myself being easily startled, the smell of scotch makes me violently ill, and oddly enough I find that I've become slightly claustrophobic. Stanley says it's because I probably associate small closed-in spaces with being trapped.

I also haven't been with Josh since before he went to Mexico. Well, I mean I've been with Josh, but I haven't BEEN with him. 

And he hasn't pushed the issue, just the opposite in fact. The only thing he has asked is to hold me when we sleep, a request I'm more than happy to oblige. I feel safe when he holds me. Safe and loved and guilty as hell, which is why I haven't been able to give him much more than that. I told Stanley why I feel guilty and he said to get past it, I'm going to have to tell Josh. 

The problem is, I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I'm worried about how he'll react and I'm terrified that it will drive a wedge between us. Then again, NOT telling him is driving a wedge between us anyway, so...well, you can understand my dilemma. I can already see that by the time we go back to DC I'm going to have to tell him and let the chips fall they where they may.

I can’t help but give a mental sigh. Back to DC...it seems so far away. Then again, I guess technically it is a long way away. Part of me still can't believe that we're going to be here in this amazingly beautiful place for two whole weeks. And I really can't believe that Josh insisted on making all the arrangements himself.

To my surprise he followed through on his plan for us to get away someplace once the dust had settled after the thing with Jack. In all honestly, if I hadn't promised him that we'd go away, I'm sure I would have tried to wheedle my way out of it. It's been a bit of an effort for me to even leave his apartment everyday and going to a strange place was not the most exciting idea to me.

But in this case, Josh was right and this time away was exactly what we needed. I can feel parts of myself beginning to thaw...parts that I didn't even know were frozen. I think it was a case of being too close to a problem and going away is letting me step back from it a little.

Josh asked me if I wanted to go to Hawaii and after all the crap I give him about the fact that he's never taken me there, I know he was surprised when I said no. I told him that while I liked the idea of being near the ocean in someplace warm and sunny, thanks to my current new found mild claustrophobia, I didn't relish the long plane flight it would take to get there. So Josh being Josh took it as a challenge to find me something similar but closer.

And I have to say that he did a pretty damn good job.

Since it was only about 200 miles from Miami, Josh picked the Bahamas. More accurately a group of remote islands called the Exhumas in the Out Island section of the Bahamas. Even in the Bahamas, this area is off the beaten track. We flew into Nassau, then we could have taken a small plane...and when I say small I mean ‘miniscule’ - the kind that seats 3 or 4 people - to a tiny airstrip and then a short boat to the resort. But Josh knew how I’d feel about the miniscule plane part so he chartered a boat to take us from Nassau to the resort. It took longer but I didn’t mind. I loved the feeling of the wind and the sun on my face. 

The resort he chose is a lush, private, 50-acre island called the Royal Plantation at Fowl Cay. It consists of six gorgeous, fully stocked villas spread over the island, with innumerable secluded coves and white-sand beaches. Our villa has its own kitchen, a private beach and even a double hammock strung between two giant coconut palms.

And the water, God, the water surrounding the island is almost indescribable. I don't think I've ever seen so many different shades of blue in one place. Depending on where you look and what time of day it is, every conceivable shade of blue is there—from aquamarine, turquoise and indigo to a shockingly clear diamond-like translucence. It's really quite breath-taking. Although I haven't tested it out yet so I'm not sure, I'm guessing that the water is as warm and inviting as it looks.

Speaking of warm water, it occurs to me that my once hot bath water is not so hot anymore and I should think about getting out of the tub. Moving my limbs experimentally, I’m happy to discover that the minor aches and pains from our outing today have faded. 

We've been here for 3 days and today was the first day Josh managed to coax me out of the house. Did you ever get sick with the flu or a bad cold and just the thought of getting out of bed is exhausting? Despite the fact I wasn't physically sick, that's how I felt for the first couple days we were here. Even here in this paradise, all I wanted to do was sleep. 

But this morning, when I woke up and found Josh sitting outside looking out over the ocean and looking so alone, something in my heart shifted. I realized that I've been terribly unfair to him. I'm not the only one this whole experience has hurt, he's suffered too. But I'm the one that's been hiding, from him, from the world...from myself and I decided it was time to pull it together.

So I forced myself to suggest we go out and see something. To say Josh was flummoxed is an understatement, but when he recovered and saw that I was serious, he was like a kid with a new toy and it was all I could too to keep up with him, hence the aches and pains. But the surprising thing is...I really did have a good time.

First, we did some exploring of the area around our villa and had the beautiful white sand beach pretty much to ourselves. Next, the resort provided us with a guide and a boat and we went to a neighboring island that had a small town and some shops that sold native goods. I didn't buy too much, but I did manage to get a couple of nice souvenirs to take back for CJ and Toby and a few soft, comfortable dresses that I figured would be perfect vacation wear here on the island.

Opening my eyes, I see the light in the bathroom has gone from bright to soft and warm and I know that I've definitely been in the tub for too long. In fact, I'm a little surprised Josh hasn't come in to see if I've turned into a prune. 

Then my nose twitches. Someone is cooking something that smells really delicious. Josh must be trying to make something for dinner. While we can order meals brought in or we can go to the main house to eat in their small but elegant restaurant, our villa came with a full, completely stocked kitchen which has been pretty handy. With a pleasant little surprise, I realize that I’m actually hungry...starving really, for the first time in days...maybe weeks. I know that my lack of appetite and the slight weight loss that’s come with it has been a real concern to Josh and so I think this will be a good chance for me to ease his mind.

Draining the tub, I step out, and dry myself off. Then I take a moment to study my reflection in the mirror. Normally I'm not one to stand naked in front of a mirror, but in this case I have a reason. I'm checking to see if I have lingering gifts from Jack. I’m happy...well, maybe relieved is a better word...to see that all the bruises are finally gone and only a couple of dark pink scars remain from my run in with the rubber bullets. It’s amazing what three weeks will do. Between me and Josh, I think the only physical reminder of what happened is the cast on his arm. He’ll get that off when we get back to DC. 

Slipping into one of the new dresses I bought today, I walk to the window. The view of the ocean from the villa is gorgeous. Through the wide bathroom window I look out to see brilliant shades of orange and purple splashed across the sky as the sun finishes its slide into the ocean. It’s just another beautiful day in paradise and since the man I love to distraction is cooking for me I’d better not keep him waiting.

“Josh...!” I call as I walk barefoot down the short hall to the living area. “...whatever you’re making smells delicious. I hope you made enough because I’m...starving." I blink in disbelief at what I'm seeing and for a moment, I simply cannot speak. 

“I think there might be enough food for you here, Donnatella."

Grinning, Josh is standing next to the large dining room table which is laden with all kinds of food that I know he couldn’t have cooked himself. Succulent meats, crisp salads, colorful vegetables and desserts to die for. He must have had the resort bring in the huge feast for us. I didn’t hear a thing so he must have made sure the staff was very stealthy. It’s like little elves came in while I was taking a bath and did all this while he supervised.

But as if that wasn’t enough, what actually renders me speechless is the candles. They’re everywhere. White candles of every size sit on nearly all the open surfaces of the dining and living room and flicker softly in the gentle breeze coming in through the open patio doors. With the dying light from the sunset and the warm candlelight washing over him, Josh looks more tasty than all the food put together. It’s the most amazing sight and it makes my throat close up with how wonderful it all is.

When I don't say anything, his grin turns a little nervous and he fidgets a little. "It's good to know that I've finally found a way to render you speechless."

Still not quite able to find my voice, I do the first thing I can think of. I walk over to him and holding his face lightly in my hands, I press my mouth to his in a slow, lingering kiss.

"Okay, so that apparently works too," he said with a rejuvenated grin when we come up for air.

I can't help but smile back. "You find many ways to make me speechless, Joshua," I tell him softly as I run my fingers lightly through his hair. "I love you so much."

His expression changes slightly and he blinks in...surprise. Wait...surprise? 

"You know that, right?" I ask him.

The deer-in-the-headlights look floods his eyes. "Uh, what? Oh...ah, yeah, of course."

Horrified, I take a step back. "Oh, my God. You don't know that."

"No, no, it's not that...I swear," he backpedals. "It's just...things have been a little weird since the thing...and that's okay...I know you went through a lot...I just..."

I wrap...no, I THROW my arms around him. "I love you more than I can put into words, Josh," I say with tears springing to my eyes. "I know I've been having a hard time with some things the last few weeks, but if I've said or done anything that has made you think differently, I'm sorry."

His arms go around me like steel bands and it's about the most comforting feeling I've ever had. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I do know how you feel about me and I hope you know that I love you more than I've ever loved anyone," he whispers against my hair. "I also know that despite the fact that you've talked to Stanley, you've been struggling. That's what's been so hard for me, I want to help you, but I don't know how." 

My heart warms at his words, but now it's my turn to be surprised. I didn't know he felt so helpless. "But you have helped me. You've been nothing but kind and gentle and patient. No one could ask for more." Pulling out of his arms, I turn and walk to the window. "God, I've really screwed things up," I mutter as I try to rub away the tears that are gathering.

"No...hey, hey." Walking over to me, he folds me into his arms. "Please don't cry. I don't want you to cry anymore. You haven't screwed up anything. I know you need some time. I can wait as long as it takes."

His words make me want to cry harder. He's really being so incredibly sweet and patient. I let him hold me for a moment, a very long moment, and simply enjoy the feeling of him wrapped around me. I'm also procrastinating over what I know I have to do. The moment to tell him what I've been holding back is clearly at hand. Slowly, reluctantly, I pull out of his arms and walk a short distance away. 

"No, you don't understand..." Turning to face him, I let out a breath. "I have something to tell you."

He frowns a little, but he sees that it's important to me. "Okay, what is it?"

"You're right. I have been struggling. I've felt...I feel...incredibly guilty about what happened with Jack..."

He starts toward me. "I keep telling you it's NOT your fault..."

I put up my hand to stop him. "Wait, let me get this out."

He stops and looks torn, like he wants to argue with me some more, but slowly he nods.

I take a steadying breath. "Logically, in my head, I know that what happened was all Jack's fault and I'm working on getting my heart on that same page and I think with some time it will," I tell him. "It would be easier for me to do that if Jack had only hurt me, but he hurt you too and that’s what hard for me to deal with."

Josh's face softens as he takes a step toward me. "Donna..." he says gently but I rush on before he can say anything else.

"It's also occurred to me that this mess with Jack might have happened for a reason and we might not be together right now if it hadn't." 

Letting that hang in the air, I stare at him for a moment and in his eyes I can see that the same thing has occurred to him too. 

"Which is why I've avoided telling you something." I say, hating the tremor in my voice. "I told Stanley, but I haven't told anyone else. It's something that happened when Jack kidnapped me. Something that I'm afraid will damage what we have now and I don't think I could handle that."

I see a look of conflict flash across Josh's face. It's a look that tells me he's torn between wanting to hear what I have to say and being afraid of what I have to say. In direct opposition to that look, I hear conviction in voice when he quietly answers me. 

"You know you can tell me anything."

I sit down on the edge of the couch and clasp my hands together. "When I was in the cabin with him...I...he..." Great Donna, very eloquent. Fighting the now familiar wave of shame that rolls through me, I clear my throat and try again. Like ripping off a bandage, this time I just decide to blurt it out. "I asked Jack to have sex with me." 

Blinking at me, Josh's expression changes, but it's not quite what I expect. He doesn't look hurt or angry, he just looks baffled. "Could you say that again?"

"Do I have to?" I plead. "It was hard enough saying it the first time."

"Donna..."

Unable to meet his gaze any longer, I stare down at my hands. "I asked him...to have sex with me...begged him actually," I repeat quietly.

"Why?" he asks simply.

I figured by now he'd be yelling at me, which is no more than I deserve and now that he's not, I'm more unsure than ever. It feels like the other shoe is hanging over me, waiting to drop on my head. 

"I told him that we didn't need anyone else. That we could go away where no one could find us. I told him I'd do whatever he wanted as long as he left you alone." Tears blur my vision and I swallow hard as I close my eyes. "He asked me if I'd let him..." I can't make myself say the words. "...do what he wanted to me...if I knew it would save you. Then he asked if I'd beg him for it. He said he'd like it if I begged...so I did."

The room is utterly silent for a long moment. "Tell me the rest," he says quietly.

Ashamed, I shrug and the tears squeeze between my closed eyelids to burn a trail down my face. "That's really about it." Then I let out a wet, shaky chuckle. "I'm afraid my begging wasn't very good. In fact, he said it was about the worst begging he'd ever heard. But it was hard to work up much enthusiasm for anything that would involve him touching me." I let out a little breath and manage to keep it from coming out as a sob. "In the end, it didn't matter anyway because he said he wasn't taking your sloppy seconds anymore."

There's another pause. "Is that everything you wanted to tell me?"

I nod. "I'm sorry, Josh."

I hear him sigh heavily and slowly his footsteps come toward me. My body tenses for his reaction. I startle slightly when I feel the palm of his hand lightly touch my cheek and he lifts my face so I have to look at him. 

When my gaze finally meets his, I'm surprised to see his eyes are bright with unshed tears and his expression is full of compassion rather than anger. "Donna, why on earth are you sorry?"

I blink at him. "Because I betrayed us...you."

"How? By throwing yourself in front of me? By trying to save me?" 

I open my mouth, but it takes me a minute to form something coherent. "You're not angry?" I ask in disbelief.

His expression becomes almost...fierce. "Oh, no, I'm angry. In fact, it's safe to say that I'm royally pissed." 

I blink in confusion.

"Not at you," he clarifies. "Okay, so mostly not at you. I don't like the idea of you offering yourself up like a sacrificial lamb to save me," He says taking my hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "On the other hand, I know you did it because that's the kind of person you are. I understand about doing whatever it takes to protect those you love." 

His words make my heart swells almost painfully in my chest and my eyes threaten to fill with tears again.

Releasing my hand and shoving his hands in his pockets, no easy feat with the cast on his arm, he paces a few steps away and then he whips around. "The one I am really pissed at is that son of bitch, Reese. I can't believe he put you through that...through everything. I don't say this lightly, but I'm glad he's dead...I'm glad that you and I didn't do it, but I'm glad he's dead."

Those are words I never thought I’d hear Josh say and yet after all that's happened and the fact I wanted to kill Jack myself on a number of occasions, I completely understand how he feels. Finding the strength to stand, I walk over to him. 

He stares at me for a moment and as if he just realized something, I see just a flash of hurt in his eyes. "Did you really think I was going to hate you for what you did?" he asks quietly.

I hadn't even realized that he'd interpret it that way. True to form for both of us, I'm putting it on my shoulders and Josh is putting it on his. We certainly are a pair. The thought makes me almost ridiculously happy.

"I swear, Josh, I didn't think of it like that. Honestly, I don't know what I’ve been thinking." Laying my hand his arm that's not wrapped in a cast, I try to make him understand. "My head has been so screwed up the last few weeks. All I know is that when it happened I felt dirty and ashamed and ever since then I've been wracked with guilt about it."

The hurt in his eyes fades and is replaced by understanding as he puts his arms around me again and pulls me close. "I’m sorry that you had to go through any of that,” he whispers into my hair. “And I’m really sorry that you worried for one second that I would think less of you for it because I don’t."

Everything inside me, everything that’s been closed up tight like a turtle in a shell, begins to open and relax. It feels a little like exhaling when you’ve been underwater holding your breath for way too long. It’s both exhilarating and a tiny bit disorienting at the same time, but you’re suddenly so happy to be alive.

“I’d go through anything, Josh,” I whisper as I hold him tightly. “As long as it meant we can be together.”

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises.

Pulling back, I capture his mouth with mine in a heated kiss that turns hungry with lighting quickness. I feel his hands slide up my back to my hair, which he deftly releases from the clip I'd put in when I took my bath and his fingers tangle in the strands as they spill down over my shoulders. 

"Make love to me, Josh," I manage between kisses.

Breathing hard, he pulls back and searches my face. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you don't feel ready for."

Since I can feel the evidence against my hip of how his body is reacting to what we're doing, I can appreciate the restraint he's showing, but I've never meant anything more in my life.

"I am ready," I tell him. "I want...I need to start living again." 

Framing my face in his hands, he smiles what I think is the most amazing smile he's ever given me. And given how much I love Josh's smiles normally, that's really saying something. Then he leans in and kisses me again sending a rush of heat and longing through my body.

We make our way down the hall to the bedroom. We could have made use of the candlelight and the couch, but I think we both want something more than a quick little romp, not to mention the whole danger of falling on the floor thing. Both of us have had enough bruises in the last few weeks to last a lifetime. 

The bedroom is lit only by the moonlight spilling in through the large bedroom windows and a warm ocean breeze gently stirs the soft gauzy white curtains at the open patio door. The air rushes deliciously over my skin as the dress slides off my shoulders to pool at my feet and my underwear joins it a minute later. Josh must be as anxious as I am because he's right behind me in the naked department, except for his cast of course which all but glows in the moonlight.

Then he pulls my body against his and his cast is the last thing on my mind. We sink down onto the bed, kissing and touching and exploring each other like we haven't done since before he went to Mexico. Actually it's even more intense now than it was then. Back then there was a certain desperation to our lovemaking. Time was running out and we had to pack as much as possible into the short time we had. But now, there's a feeling of beginning to what we're doing. Like we have all the time in the world.

Josh's hands and mouth roam my body, enflaming everywhere he touches. His kisses move up the inside of my thigh to their first destination. And when he puts his mouth on my center, it doesn't take much to have me coming in a quick, hard, breath-stealing rush that has me gripping me the sheets and calling out his name. 

For the record...if I haven't said it before...Josh is REALLY good at that part.

Oh, who am I kidding, he's really good at ALL the parts. As usual, he's an over-achiever, but believe me when I say I'm not complaining.

Looking pleased with himself, Josh kisses his way over my stomach and after lingering on my breasts, he settles himself over me, the weight of his body pressing me to the bed. For half a second something in my head threatens to compare the feeling of him to Jack straddling me on the couch in the cabin or when he was strangling me in the woods, but I work to fight it back. Part of the problem is that Josh's face is cast in deep shadow so it's a little hard to focus on him. Since we're near the edge of the bed, I stretch over and manage to switch on the small lamp sitting on the night stand.

Blinking slightly in the soft light, Josh must see something in my face because the hint of a question comes into his eyes. "You okay?"

"I wanted to see your face," I tell him softly.

I hadn't even realized that my breath had quickened slightly and not in a good way, but now that I can see him, everything settles. It's just him and me and there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of. He just wants to love me and all I have to do is let him. Nothing ugly can exist in the face of that.

Still looking down at me, Josh continues to look a little concerned. "You sure you're okay?" 

I run my fingers lightly through his hair, loving the silky feel of his curls. To show him I mean what I say, I smile and relaxing my body under him, I slide my legs up around his waist, settling the hard length of him more tightly against me. 

"Yeah, I'm good...really good."

He dips his head and tenderly rains kisses on my forehead, over my eyes, down my nose, along my jaw and finally to my mouth which he captures in a gentle kiss that turns heated and then moves right onto searing. We continue like that for a long while, just kissing and enjoying the closeness of our naked bodies pressed together.

Surfacing for air, Josh's hands slide up into my hair and he stares down at me as if he's giving me a last chance to change my mind. By that point, changing my mind is that last thing I want to do and so I give him a nod.

Seeing my signal, Josh sifts his body and as his eyes stay locked on mine, he slowly, deliberately slides inside me. The feeling of him inside me...the feeling of connection with him on so many levels is incredible. I have no words to say how thankful I am that we're both here and can be together like this. As he begins to move and the feeling in my body builds, I know without a doubt that we're going to be fine...better than fine.

At that point I lose the ability to think at all as instinct and feeling take over and Josh brings us both to the fine edge of sanity. My nails dig into his skin as I try and find some anchor against the rising tide of pleasure. Then it swamps me completely, dragging me under and I choke out his name as feeling and Josh explode inside me.

Spent, Josh collapses against me, burying his face against my shoulder and breathing hard and fast. Trying to catch my own breath, I smile as I run my hands lovingly over his sweaty skin. He shifts us and rolls onto his back holding me against him so now I'm laying partially on top of him.

I rest my cheek on his chest and listen to the comforting sound of his heart. "Thank you, Josh," I tell him quietly.

The hand that had been stroking my arm pauses. "For what?"

"For everything. For what we just did. For bringing me to this beautiful place. For coming to save me." My voice catches a little. "For loving me."

His hand starts moving over my arm again. "Loving you has been the best thing in my life," he says softly. "I'm just sorry it took so long for us to get here and you had to go through so much."

"I'm not," I say truthfully. "When all is said and done, it's made me appreciate every day I have with you that much more."

His arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of my head. "Me too."

We both lay there quietly for a moment. "You know what I want right now?"

"What?"

I sit up. "Food...I'm starving," I say with a grin.

Josh chuckles. "Well, it just so happens we've got a dining room full of food at our disposal."

Climbing off the bed, I prop a hand on my hip. "How do you feel about eating dinner...naked?"

A full blown dimpled smirk erupts on Josh's face. "I'm thinking it's going to be my new favorite past time."

With a giggle and Josh close on my heels, I take off down the hall to sample the delights that await.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hammock beneath us sways slightly in the breeze as I watch Donna sleep peacefully.

I can't believe how good she looks. I mean she always looks good but I can see such a difference in her even since we got here ten days ago. 

Dressed in the shorts and tank top she put on after we got back from exploring a nearby island this morning, she looks rested and relaxed. She's gained some weight, her alabaster skin has just a touch of sun, her hair is even lighter from all the time outside, and there is a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Freckles that she hates and I think are just about the cutest thing ever and delight in counting on a regular basis. Today there are 27.

And there's the biggest change of all.

I rub my thumb over the delicate gold band on her finger that matches the one I'm wearing. I promised to let her pick out any diamond engagement ring she wants to go with it when we get back to DC.

I asked her to marry me a couple of days ago. We were walking on the beach and she stopped to look at something, a sand dollar I think. I stood there watching her and I just knew I wanted to marry her. It was quite the moment of clarity and I was a little surprised that I hadn't thought about it before. 

After convincing Donna the idea wasn't some knee-jerk reaction to the events of the last few days, she miraculously said yes. I told her she could have any type or size wedding she wanted, but the funny thing is, we both knew we didn't want to wait to get married. 

There will be hell to pay with our friends and families when we get back, but honestly, I don't care. We're married and that's what matters most to me. I want to make the most of every day I have with her. 

Donna stirs softly and with a yawn her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me. "Hey," she says with a drowsy smile.

I lightly brush some hair back from her face. "Hey yourself, how was your nap?"

"Hmmm..." She stretches lazily and then snuggles against me. "Wonderful. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing, just watching you."

She smiles softly at me. "Sounds pretty boring," she teases. "I bet I can think of something more exciting."

"Nah, I'm not doing exciting today."

"Well, okay, if you say so," she says climbing gracefully out of the hammock. 

I haven't quite figured out how she does that. When I have to get out of the hammock, it's all I can do to keep from falling on my face or looking like a character out of a Jerry Lewis movie.

"Yeah, I think I'm just going to lay here in this hammock and be a slug for the rest of the afternoon."

She walks slowly toward the house. "Suit yourself," she calls back over her shoulder. "I'm going to go and take a long, hot shower. I thought maybe you'd like to join me, but if you're going to be a slug I guess I'll have to manage in that enormous shower all by myself."

Okay, so I can be a slug later.

I scramble out of the hammock so fast, it's a wonder I don't do myself bodily harm, but I manage to stay in one piece and I trot after her. 

"Well, I better come with you," I call after her with a smirk. "You know, just in case you need someone to wash your back."

The End.


End file.
